Transmuting Freedom
by TheHunter747
Summary: When Harry gets in an argument with his friends, Hogwarts thinks it's high time she took matters into her own hands. Harry begins his training in the ancient and noble art of Alchemy, and begins to break free of the manipulations placed on him. A manipulative Dumbledore and an independent Harry clash, and Harry must struggle to escape the machinations of Fate.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Who created Time-Turners? It's curious that so many writers use them as plot devices, whether it's to send Harry back to 1945, or to save Sirius. (But never Cedric? Why not save him too, if you have a time machine that has literally no rules.) Anyway, this story will explain how Time-Turners are made, and a whole lot more besides. After all, J.K. Rowling opened this little doorway in the first book. So. Harry learns the ancient art of Alchemy. Slight crossover with Fullmetal Alchemist, though only with some character names, and a couple of concepts. Also, centaurs have to have something going for them, so they get to be badass alchemists in this story. Come in, take a seat, and let me tell you a tale. I promise you won't regret it. As always, though, I'm only borrowing the characters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLAMEL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

A silence descended around the three first years. Eventually, Harry decided it had gone on too long. "And what's a Philosopher's Stone when it's at home, Hermione?"

Hermione Granger, bushy-haired and brilliant witch, huffed at him, before answering. "It's only the pinnacle of the ancient art of Alchemy, Harry. Nothing special, really."

Harry might not have been as smart as his friend, but even he heard the sarcasm in her voice. "Well, sorry, but I don't go around reading books that look older than Hogwarts before breakfast each day, Hermione. What does it do, and why is Dumbledore hiding it in Hogwarts? Can't this Flamel bloke keep it with him?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly before she answered. "Like I said, it's the pinnacle of the art. The book doesn't go into much detail, really. Just says something about it turning lead to gold, and being essential to creating the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker invulnerable temporarily."

Ron piped up at this point. "Invulnerable?"

"It means you can't be hurt by any means."

"I know what it means! But why's Snape trying to get hold of it? I mean, he doesn't seem like he needs it. Maybe to make gold, sure, but apart from that..."

"Aside from it's initial ability, the Elixir also has another power. It can restore the drinker to full health. Heal any injuries they have. It's rumoured that it could even restore a disembodied spirit to a flesh and blood body, if the right rituals were used."

A shiver went down Harry's spine. What was it Hagrid had told him, when they first met? _'Most reckon he's still out there somewhere, too weak to carry on.'_ If this stone had the powers it was rumoured to have, then was it possible that Snape was trying to steal the stone for Voldemort? He voiced that fear, and Ron seemed to think it was possible, but Hermione was, well, Hermione.

"Oh, honestly Harry. Professor Snape might not be the nicest person, but that doesn't mean he's trying to bring the most feared Dark Lord in Britain in the past century back to life." Now had she said this nicely, or even just politely, as though explaining a tricky Transfiguration concept, maybe Harry could have let it go. But the level of condescension in her voice, the fact that she was deeming something impossible simply because she didn't think of it, was what got to Harry. Shoving his chair away from the table, Harry got to his feet.

"So it's impossible for Snape to be going after the Stone, Hermione? And I suppose this time last year, it was impossible for Hogwarts to even exist? Just because you have an unhealthy belief that all authority figures are saints, and everything they say is the Word of God, doesn't mean the rest of the world thinks the same. All Snape does is mock you, and treat you with scorn. Why are you so damn determined to defend someone that might have been the one to let that troll in at Halloween? He could be the reason you nearly died, and you're sitting there defending him?" Harry grabbed his book bag, and headed towards the exit. On his way he paused. "Just because it isn't written in a book, doesn't mean it's not real, Hermione. I'm going to stop whoever this is. With or without you."

He left immediately after that, closing the door to the Common Room behind him, missing Ron's look of shock, and Hermione's suspiciously watery eyes. Storming through the halls of Hogwarts, he walked past Draco Malfoy, who opened his mouth to say something, looked at the expression on his face, closed his mouth and got out of Harry's way. In later years, he would come to realize that this was the most sensible decision he had made in his first year at Hogwarts.

Storming into an unused classroom, Harry kicked the door shut behind him with a bang that was probably heard in Gryffindor Tower. Crossing the room, he collapsed into a chair, and slammed his head down onto the desk next to it. _'Why did I snap at Hermione like that? Okay, I suppose she was being really annoying, talking to me like I'm a five year old, but even so, I shouldn't have yelled like that. I guess I should apologise. But I'm just...so tired...'_ Harry's eyes drifted shut of their own accord, and in the space of a few seconds, he was asleep, totally oblivious to the colours pulsing on the walls of the room, each pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TRANSMUTE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What very few people knew, was that Hogwarts was sentient. Well, that's a bit of a stretch, as everyone knew she _was_ sentient, just not to what degree. If they had known, many students might have thought twice about meeting for a quick snog in the various broom closets around the school. After all, having a thousand year old castle watching over your shoulder while doing that is rather unpleasant to think about. But for the most part, Hogwarts was bored.

In the days of her creators, a student would simply place their hand on the wall and strike up a conversation with her, asking her advice on anything from a tricky question in Charms, to advice on what dress to wear on a date that evening. But after Salazar left, students had slowly stopped speaking to her. Helga was too busy working to tell the students about her sentience, Rowena didn't care to even consider that there might be someone smarter than her, and Godric...well frankly Hogwarts was a little concerned that Godric might have been hit over the head with a shield one time too many. Salazar had appreciated the benefits of being able to quickly know where each student was, in case the castle was besieged.

And hadn't that been a common occurence, she thought. In the year after she was completed alone, twenty angry mobs of muggles had attacked the school. If it hadn't been for Salazar's quick thinking, seven students could have died. Hogwarts had her favourites, and Salazar was top of the list. And now this young boy, wearing clothes three sizes too big, with glasses held together by sticky tape and a prayer, whose childhood she had seen when Fergus - the Sorting Hat, as he was better known - had sat upon his head, and pleaded with the child to accept that he was meant to be a Slytherin, to no avail, had entered her halls, and if he wasn't Salazar reborn, she didn't know who else could be.

His childhood was almost identical - raised by Muggle relatives who hated and feared magic, just like Salazar. Orphaned near birth, again, just like Salazar. And his ambition to be the best that he could be, no matter who or what stood in his way? Well, Salazar had said it best. _'If there is something keeping me from getting what I want, I'll get rid of it. It's that simple.'_ Certainly, ambition without honour was a dangerous thing, but this child had honour in excess, far beyond what he should have after living with those Muggles. And Hogwarts knew everything that happened within her boundaries. She knew that the current Headmaster was playing games within games, testing the black-haired boy. She knew that Quirrell had been dead long before he set foot in the castle, due to a disembodied wraith possessing his body. She knew that said wraith was trying to obtain the Philosopher's Stone which had been hidden in the third floor corridor.

Hogwarts was not happy. The current Headmaster was playing too many games, risking too many lives. She needed to stop him, and for the first time in her long, long life, she cursed Salazar for not giving her the ability to take on corporeal form. Had she been able to do so, maybe the last war in this world could have been avoided. But she did not need to dwell on what could have been done, but instead what still could be done. Her new boy had been interested in the same noble and ancient art as Salazar, and art that required no magic, yet the effects of it were magical all the same. She could tell he was interested in learning the art of Alchemy, just as surely as she could tell that one Terrence Higgs and a Rosalina Parkinson were enjoying one anothers company in a broom closet on the second floor. She quickly redirected Filch to that area - Ms. Parkinson was only in third year, after all!

But now she turned her mind to another problem. She wanted to help the little boy who had - like another green-eyed, black-haired man from a time long since gone - managed to capture the heart of the towering castle. But how to do so without alerting Dumbledore to the fact that she knew about his games and tricks. Eventually, she settled on giving the young boy a book. It wasn't much, but it was all she could do for now. If he could find the ward crystal, then he could interact directly with her, and she could do more for him. But for now, she would let him study one of Salazar's old books. Directing a house-elf with her mind, she left the book on the desk in front of him, where he couldn't possibly miss it. Task complete, she rested - so long as her ward crystal was only partially active, she had very little energy - and hoped that she had done enough for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trixie was a good house elf, and like all good house elves, she knew that she was bound not to the Headmaster, as most assumed, but to Hogwarts herself. If Hogwarts countered an order given by the Headmaster, she would obey Hogwarts first. So when she had been ordered by Hogwarts to bring a book to the boy who Trixie knew had helped save every magical being in Britain, she decided to do one extra little thing. She wrote a note, and left it there, unsigned, on top of the book, along with a bowl of hot soup with a warming charm cast on it. After all, if he slept much longer, the young boy would miss dinner. She popped out of the room, and went back to making dinner for the other students.

And in that room with walls that pulsed in time with a sleeping boy's heartbeat, the note slid down in a slight breeze, revealing the title of a book. _'Alchemy: A Beginners' Primer'_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PHOENIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Well, there you go. Incidentally, I'm not sure whether I want Ron and Hermione to be good, or mean, backstabbing little gits. Hermione and Harry will have a rather perilous friendship if she is good, though. And Ron's jealousy will always make an appearance. But I want to know what you lot think. Should they be gits, or good? As always, thanks for reading, and please review.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to all 292 people who have read this story. And extra thanks to those of you who have followed, favourited, or reviewed the story. On the subject of Ron and Hermione, I've decided where to go with them. I will let you know, however, that they won't simply be mindless pawns. They have reasons for acting the way they do, and those reasons will be explained soon enough, starting with this chapter. For now, let's get on with the story. As is rather depressingly standard, I don't own a single Knut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~HARRY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry woke up, the first thing he noticed was that there was a book sitting on the table in front of him that had definitely not been there before. Picking up the note that was sitting on top of the book, Harry opened it and began reading.

_Young master,_

_My mistress ordered me to bring this to you. She asked that you study it in your free time. I have also left something for you to eat, since I believe you may sleep through dinner tonight. Best of luck._

'Huh. Who would have sent me this? Dumbledore? No, the letter said mistress, which means it's a woman. Professor McGonagall? She did buy me my broom, after all.' Deciding to read the book for now, and worry about who sent it later, Harry picked it up. For such a large book, it was surprisingly lightweight, like there was some kind of levitation charm on it that activated when he touched it. 'Something to look into later, I guess. Hmm. Alchemy? That can't be a coincidence. We discover who Flamel is, and someone sends me a book on Alchemy. Maybe it was Mrs Flamel. If so...why? What point is there? Ah, to hell with it. I've got the book, I might as well at least take a look at it.'

Cracking the book open to the first page, Harry was confused. There was no author listed, and the cloud of dust that rose from the book was so thick he could have sworn it walked off under it's own power. Shrugging it off - after all, some of the books in the library were probably just as old - he began reading from the first paragraph.

_The ancient and noble art of Alchemy (pronounced Ahl-keh-me) is not so much a study, as a calling. If one has the requisite skills to devote to the art, they will no doubt become a first rate alchemist with relative ease. The first thing to discuss, however, is not how to perform an alchemic transmutation, but rather a warning._

_Alchemy is governed by the law of Equivalent Exchange. To be blunt, you cannot gain something without something of equal value first being lost. Thus, it is impossible to create a soul, no matter how powerful or experienced you may be. One may fuse souls together - creating a chimera - but it is impossible to recreate a specific soul. This is due to the fact that all souls are unique, meaning that each has nothing of equivalent value. Thus, due to the governing law of Alchemy, human transmutation - the attempt to bring a dead person back to life - is strictly taboo._

_If any novice alchemists feel like challenging this one, immutable law, they need only remember the tragedies of the Aztec and Atlantean empires. Half of the Aztec Empire, three Philosopher's Stones, and a good chunk of the Americas, were destroyed in the alchemic backlash from trying to ressurect just one person. But that is nothing, compared to the tragedy of Atlantis, one of the pinnacles of magical research in the world at that time. The entire island of Atlantis, every man, woman and child on that island, and seven Philosopher's Stones were annihalated in that cataclysmic attempt to ressurect one family of four people._

'Note to self. Never attempt human transmutation. No matter what.'

_With that warning made, let us move on to the teaching of the art. The basics of Alchemy are simplistic, yet complex at the same time. The transmutation circle is a necessity for beginners, as is the matrix within said circle. Over time, some alchemists become able to perform Alchemy using their bodies as the circle, and their soul as the matrix. This should not be confused with human transmutation, as neither the circle or matrix are altered during transmutation.__ Over the page, a basic circle and matrix combination are displayed, along with step by step instructions for beginners to follow with ease. If you find yourself struggling, then it may be that Alchemy is not your calling, and it is unlikely you_ _will ever master the art. The circle and matrix can be drawn with any number of items, however chalk is the most effective, and least likely to fail.'_

Several times over the course of the evening, a house elf popped into the room to check that Harry was alright. The aspiring alchemist was completely engrossed by his new book, to the point that he didn't even notice the elf, even when she was spoon feeding him from the bowl of soup. His focus was solely on the Alchemy primer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~HERMIONE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione Granger was conflicted. On the one hand, she had been raised to trust and believe in authority figures her whole life. If something went wrong, then an adult would come and fix it. On the other hand, she knew that only a teacher or member of staff at Hogwarts could have let the troll in. After all, they were keyed into the wards, and they were the only people who could alter them. Add to that the fact that it hadn't been an adult who came rushing in to save her and make her troubles go away like before, but instead two young boys, one of whom was the reason she had been there in the first place.

Those two boys had risked their own lives, not paying any attention to the fact that they would most likely die because of it, and defeated the troll. And Proffesor McGonagall, the authority figure that she was supposed to trust, had shouted at them for it. She would have got them into trouble for it, possibly even suspended them for deliberately dispobeying the Headmaster.

And so Hermione did something she had never done in her life. She stood up and lied to an adult. She took the entire blame onto her own shoulders, accepting the punishment - which, all things considered, was rather light - and saving the two boys' skins. And so two became three, and for the first time in her life, she had friends - real friends, not the ones in her books, but real, flesh and blood friends - and everything was fantastic. She had recieved a Christmas present from someone that wasn't related to her for the first time, and she had savoured every single Sugar Quill from Harry, and all the Fizzing Whizbees from Ron, because for once in her life, someone that didn't have to do so, had sent her a present.

But now it was all teetering on the brink of ruin, because Harry believed that Snape was trying to kill him, and no matter how much she had changed, she still hadn't shaken off the last vestiges of her old self. She still couldn't believe that an adult who had been allowed to teach in a school full of children, even one as nasty as Snape, would deliberately try to kill someone. And she could admit to herself, in private, that she personally thought it was Snape too. But it went against every lesson her parents had taught her while growing up, so she just couldn't admit it out loud, and now it was going to cost her the first friends she had.

Because she was not an idiot, no, not even the bullies from primary school would say that, and she knew that if it came down to it, Ron would side with Harry. And she would lose the first two people she had ever been able to call friends. Finally, she came to one conclusion. Sitting up straight in bed - she hadn't gone to sleep that night, too busy sobbing into her pillow at the thought of losing her friends - she admitted to herself that she had to do this if there was any hope of keeping her friends. Mind made up, she promised herself that tomorrow at breakfast, she would do it. Rolling over, she eventually fell into a restless and troubled sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~RON~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron Weasley was sitting in a chair by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. He had been sat there all night, staring into the fire, thinking. And he could just hear Fred and George laughing in the back of his head, making jokes about not hurting himself and the like. But Ron was smart. He had to be, after all, you can't play chess as well as he could, always thinking five moves ahead, and not be intelligent. It was just... why bother? If he got perfect grades, became Head BOy, Quidditch Captain, graduated with twelve OWLs and twelve NEWTs, what difference did it make? Bill was Head Boy first, and Percy seemed to be on track for the same.

If he made Head Boy, all he would hear from his mum would be; _'Oh Ron, this is wonderful. Just like Bill, you know!'_ And Charlie had been Quidditch Captain first, and the twins were fantastic Beaters, and even if his mum didn't approve of the game, she still congratulated them over every win, sent homemade cookies to celebrate every time they won. And he didn't even have the distinction of being the youngest child, because Ginny took that spot. The youngest child in the family and the first female Weasley in five generations to boot. She got all his mum's remaining attention, while he just... fell through the cracks. The middle child, nobody special, because his older brothers did it first.

So what was the point? Why keep going on, if he was never going to be better than his family, because they were already the best? _Still,_ he consoled himself, _at least I have one thing they don't. I'm best friends with Harry. That's something they don't have, but I do._ And Harry. He was a conundrum to Ron, even now. He had all the fame in the country, witches - and the occasional wizard - willing to throw themselves at his feet to do as he wished with them, but he didn't seem to want any of it. But why? Why did Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of Magical Britain, not want the fame? He couldn't figure it out, but he made a promise to himself, and these were the ones he always kept. No matter what got in his way, he would find out why Harry didn't accept the fame and accolades that were rightfully his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FREEDOM~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep underground, in an enormous chamber an equally enormous crystal glowed with a soft, welcoming light. This was the central ward crystal of Hogwarts, and correspondingly, the centre of her intelligence. And Hogwarts watched. She watched as Harry Potter set himself on the path to greatness that he had nearly denied himself. She watched as Hermione Granger struggled to find a balance between the way she was raised, and the way her friends acted. She watched as Ron Weasley struggled to overcome his own problems, deeply rooted as they were in his childhood. She watched over Neville Longbottom as he slept, caressing him gently and soothing away his nightmares. She watched over Susan Bones, who even now still cried for the parents she barely knew.

She watched over each and every child within her walls. And as she watched, she knew that one day, these children would be grown men and women. She knew that some would go on to fight for what they believed in in the Wizengamot, in the ICW. She knew some would become shopkeepers, some would become potioneers, some would become teachers, some would be botanists, some would care for the magical creatures of this world, while others tried to bring peace between the various magical races. She knew that some would succeed, and some would fail. But most importantly, she knew she would do her best to help them achieve their goals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLAMEL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Not moving very far in terms of plot this chapter, but I thought I'd give you a look at the minds of the three main characters. And yes, Neville and Susan will be friends with them. Thank you all for the reviews you've sent in, they've been very thought provoking. My question for this chapter is, should Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel get involved in the story? Should they live, and help Harry? Or is that simply an overused plot device that you're sick of reading? And if they do help Harry, how much should they help him? As always, thank you for taking the time to read this story, and please review it. I appreciate every one.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Well, thirteen reviews in less than three days. That's impressive. And all of them positive, with helpful thoughts about the story. Thank you all for taking such an interest in this. After all, a story is useless if no one reads it, isn't it? Neville and Susan will play their parts, but not for a while. Susan won't get involved until second, I'll tell you that now. Neville? Well, wait and see. As always, I own nothing but my own twisted imagination. And for some reason it just sent me an image of Snape, Voldemort and Bellatrix doing the macarena. Told you it was twisted. Please don't sue for mental harm, you won't get anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"In here, sweetheart."

"Hurry, Alice!"

"I'm going as fast as I can, Frank! Hush, sweetie. Shh, shh. It's all going to be alright, I promise. Now you stay in here, okay? You stay in here and don't make a sound. We're playing peekaboo, okay Neville? Good boy."

A flash of orange crept through a gap in the cupboard.

"Where is he! Where is our Lord?!"

"For Merlin's sake, we don't know! Please, just leave us alone!"

"I think you're lying. I think you know exactly where our Master is. Crucio!"

Tortured screams reached the ears of a baby, hidden in a cupboard, being as quiet as he could. This didn't seem like the other games of peekaboo his mummy and daddy had played with him. They had never told him to be quiet during the games, and the yelling was starting to scare the young boy. He started grizzling slightly, before progressing to wailing out loud, never realising the screaming had stopped.

A hand yanked the door to the cupboard open roughly, revealing not his mummy, but another woman, with scary eyes and a mean smile. He could see his daddy just behind her, though, and started waving, not seeing his daddy's eyes go wide in horror.

"Well, well. What have we here? Itty, bitty, baby Longbottom. Maybe mummy and daddy will be more willing to play if we played with you for a while?"

The woman raised her wand, and was about to use a spell, when daddy suddenly jumped on top of him. The spell hit him, and the baby's daddy started to scream in pain. His mummy crawled over as well, and moved in front of daddy. He stopped screaming, but now mummy was screaming. Not for long, though, as suddenly there was a series of loud pops, and a large group of people sent spells at the woman and her friends. Just before they dragged her away, she started screaming at him.

"They can't lock me away forever, little Longbottom! And someday, I'll come back, and finish what I started!"

As his vision started fading, the deranged cackling seemed if anything to get louder and louder. Bolting upright in bed and scrambling for a dark corner, Neville Longbottom slowly wept. He wept for the parents who had given their sanity to keep him alive. He wept for the loss he had lived with, knowing his parents were alive, but unable to recognise him. But most of all, he wept for the fear that one day, what Bellatrix Lestrange had said would come true; that she would indeed escape from Azkaban, and finished what she started ten years ago.

Climbing out of bed, he started to go through the usual morning ablutions, before getting dressed and heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He passed Hermione on the way, noting that she looked rather out of things. Taking the empty seat next to Dean, he leaned over.

"Do you know what's up with Hermione? She looked kind of upset about something."

"You mean you didn't know?"

"Err, no. Know what?"

"It's all over the school by now. Harry and Hermione got into a fight in the Common Room. Personally, I'm siding with Harry."

"They were fighting? What about?"

At this point, Seamus dragged himself in, just in time to hear Neville's question.

"Ah, now that's the thing. From what I heard, Harry was arguing that Granger was too much of a kiss-ass to the teachers. Said something about Snape being the reason she nearly died on Halloween."

Parvati heard the tail end of Seamus' statement, and immediately went to talk to Lavender. By the time Ron and Hermione made it to breakfast, half the school was glaring at Snape, fully able to believe he would be capable of murdering a student he didn't like. Had Albus Dumbledore, or indeed any teacher, known why the students were glaring at Snape, it would have most likely sparked an inquiry into why so many students believed that of one of their teachers. Unfortunately, they did not know these things, and assumed that Snape had set a very difficult piece of homework.

Seeing Hermione, Parvati turned and began the interrogation.

"So, is it true?"

Now, Hermione was a sensible person. Therefore, she did not immediately confirm that 'it' was true. "Is what true, Parvati?"

"Is it true that Snape tried to kill you, of course!"

Blinking in confusion, Hermione tried to clarify things. Unfortunately, when Lavender tried to explain the situation, she only got more confused.

"So, let me see if I've got this right. Parvati heard Seamus say something about Professor Snape trying to kill me on Halloween? That's what this is all about?"

"Uh-huh. So, is it true?"

Rubbing her temples slightly, Hermione's reply was unusual to those that knew her. In fact, Ron dropped his spoon back into the bowl of cereal he had been eating in shock. "I don't know. It's possible."

Now it should be noted that one Harry James Potter had walked into the Great Hall only half a minute earlier, and was walking over to his usual seat. When Hermione made that statement, it just so happened that he was directly behind Hermione, and thus heard every word she said. Sliding into his seat in a state of shock, he didn't notice Hermione and Ron tense up on either side of him.

"Um...good morning, Harry."

"Morning Hermione. Morning Ron."

"Morning mate. Listen, um, I was just wanting to ask..."

"I'm sorry Harry!" As Hermione had completely forgone her 'indoor voice' in this case, half of Gryffindor table, and some of the Ravenclaws, were looking over at her curiously. Ron had closed his mouth, silently acknowledging that Hermione needed to say this, not him.

"Sorry about what, Hermione?"

"I'm sorry about, you know, always being so...bossy. And for not thinking that you could be right. I mean, it's possible that Snape is responsible. And honestly, when I stopped to think about it, he's the most likely suspect,and I know that I was really probably sounding incredibly condescending, it's just that-mrph!"

Harry had stopped her rambling apology the only way he knew how- putting his hand over her mouth and holding it there. "Okay, Hermione. My turn to talk, alright?" At her nod of acknowledgment, he removed his hand.

"Okay, I know that you think you need to apologise. And maybe you do. But the only reason you acted that way is because you trust adults. To...you know, do the right thing, keep you safe, that sort of stuff. I don't really trust anyone like that. But, even so, I shouldn't have shouted at you like I did. I just, um, lost my temper, is all. So, how about this. You've said you're sorry, I'll say I'm sorry, and then we can be friends again. Yeah?"

The bright spark that had been conspicuously absent from Hermione's eyes that morning returned full blast. Nodding happily, she apologized (again), Harry apologized, and just like that, the so-called 'Golden Trio' was whole once more. Of course, their fellow Gryffindors weren't willing to drop the juiciest bit of gossip that had been heard for the entire year. By the end of breakfast, every single detail in the troll incident had been examined and picked apart in detail so fine, Muggle CSIs would hang their heads in shame. And the final conclusion was that even if Snape was innocent, he was still a suspicious git.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their classes for the day were finished, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Common Room, trying to figure out what could be guarding the Stone. Harry had considered telling them about the mysterious book he had been given, but decided against it for now. He quite liked having a secret that no-one else knew, and besides, it wasn't anything dangerous. It was a book, for crying out loud! For now, they had two pieces of parchment in front of them.

The first had the title 'Reasons Snape is guilty' emblazoned across the top, while the second parchment was entitled 'Reasons Snape is innocent'. So far, not even Hermione had been able to think of anything more than, 'Dumbledore trusts him', for the second parchment. The first, however, had so many things listed, they had begun to worry they might need a second piece of parchment, including the possible attempt on Harry's life at the Quidditch match earlier that year, his attitude towards students in class, his skulking towards the third floor on Halloween, and of course his interrogation of Quirrell after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match.

Faced with so much evidence against Snape, even Hermione's faith in Dumbledore's trust was beginning to crack.

"I can't believe it. How could anyone be such a nasty person that the only reason we can think of to believe him innocent is another person's word? It just doesn't seem possible."

"Maybe not, but don't forget, Hermione, the only actual evidence that he could be after the Stone is him skulking around the third floor. The rest just shows that he's a mean git who want's to kill me."

"It might not have been him, Harry. It could have been one of the seventh year students that jinxed your broom." At this, Ron snorted. Hermione turned and faced him, eyebrow raised.

"There's no way that it was a student. Nimbus 2000s are the brooms that the pros are flying on at the moment, Hermione. They all come with built in protection spells to prevent tampering. It would take a witch or wizard who knew the Dark Arts really well just to get around the protections on the broomstick, much less place a Hurling Hex on it. Not to mention the accuracy involved in hitting a fast-moving target from that distance. Definitely an adult."

Hermione wilted slightly, one argument defeated by Ron's logic - and didn't that sound strange to think, much less say! "Well, maybe it was an adult hidden in the crowd of students, then."

Percy, who had been walking by, stopped at this point. "Afraid not, Hermione. There are wards around the student sections of the stands that prevent spells from being cast. To protect the players from the opposing houses, you see. The only places the hex could have been fired from are the places that don't have those wards active. In other words, the pitch, or the teacher's box. And anyone who was standing on the pitch would have been noticed pretty quickly."

"So the spell had to have been cast from the teacher's box, Percy?"

"Afraid so, Ron. Whoever cast that spell, much as I am loath to admit it, was a member of the Hogwarts staff." Harry butted in again.

"And the only person we know for certain was casting a spell was Snape. And the players surrender their wands to the referee before each match, so they can't attack each other mid-flight, so unless someone had a second wand, it had to have been a teacher. You have to admit, Snape looks more guilty every time we think about this."

"Well, yes, but Snape makes potions for the hospital wing. Surely if he was trying to kill you, he'd have just poisoned one of the potions you were to take."

Fred and George joined in at this point. "Ah, but Hermione-"

"-how would our esteemed Potions Master-"

"-know which potion Pomphrey was going to give to the Boy Wonder here?"

Another of her protests soundly trounced, Hermione sat back, her faith nearly shattered. Even she couldn't find any more arguments that wouldn't end with Snape looking more guilty than he already did. "Alright, fine. Snape looks to be trying to murder you Harry. Let's go talk to Professor Dumbledore about it. He's in charge of Hogwarts, surely he can do something about this."

A second year boy that Harry vaguely knew from an introduction a while ago was named Cormac McLaggen piped up. "Hate to burst your bubble, but any time someone goes to talk to Dumbledore about Snape, all he says is, 'Severus Snape has my complete trust', or some rot like that. Even if you spoke to him, it won't do any good. Even when Bill Weasley got the Board of Governors to investigate Snape, Dumbledore blocked them at every turn. Didn't help that Lucius Malfoy and Snape are old pals from during the war, either."

Harry's mouth fell open. Snape had fought in the war? And from the sound of things, he had been on Voldemort's side then, too. "What the hell?! Why is Dumbledore letting Snape teach here if he knows Snape worked for Voldemort?!"

After the by now customary flinch, McLaggen shrugged. "Beats me. By all rights, Snape should be in Azkaban, but apparently Dumbledore vouched for him, and Snape got to go free. Didn't even get questioned."

"Great. So now what do we do? I've got a homicidal ex-Death Eater who hates me, and my father, and wouldn't mind killing me, and the person I'm supposed to ask for help won't listen to me, or do anything about it even if he did listen!"

George pitched his two cents in. "What if we took matters into our own hands?"

Alicia whacked him on the back of his head, then sat down next to him, Angelina and Katie next to her. "Sounds interesting. Go on."

Frowning in confusion, George began talking again. "We all think Snape is a greasy, foul old git, right?" Nods all around, even from Hermione. "Good. So why don't we prank him like crazy? Keep him too busy fighting off our pranks to even think about trying to kill ickle Harrikins here?" Again, most of the Gryffindors - even Percy, to his brothers' surprise - were nodding in agreement.

"Hold on. What if, by some miracle, we're wrong about this. And Snape is actually trying to protect Harry from someone else? I'll admit, it's not very likely, but there is that 0.1 percent chance."

The group blinked, trying to figure out what to do now. Harry was the one who came up with the solution this time. "What if the pranks weren't too harmful? They could be distracting, sure, like a foghorn going off whenever he sits down in his chair in class, and not stopping till he stands up, but nothing that would harm him, and make him unable to protect the Sto...er, me." Unfortunately for Harry, he hadn't covered his slip of the tongue well enough. The other Gryffindors surround him, and demanded an explanation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, having finally explained things to the rest of the group's satisfaction - and gaining a whole host of people willing to help protect the Stone along with him, Ron and Hermione along the way - Harry collapsed into bed, pulling the hangings shut, and retrieved the book on Alchemy from it's hiding place under his mattress. He hadn't tried transmuting anything yet - he wanted to wait until he had plenty of free time for that. Maybe during the summer, provided he was allowed to. He had heard Fred and George talking about the fact that they weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Well, he said 'talking', but he really meant 'complaining'. Deciding to worry about it later, he cracked open the book to chapter two, and began to read.

_The Creation Of A Philosopher's Stone_

The Philosopher's Stone is the pinnacle of the art of Alchemy, and has many names, dependant on where in the world one asks about it. In some places, it is known by a different name, such as Falion's Stone, or the Elixir of Life. Contrary to what some books may say, the Stone is the Elixir, it does not produce it. The creation of a Philosopher's Stone is difficult, simply because each Stone is unique, and cannot be created by two different alchemists working from the same recipe. Where one would succeed, the other would most certainly fail, unless he or she were using the exact same transmutation circle and matrix combination. Each Stone is made up of an unknown number of ingredients, and each ingredient corresponds to a different Arithmantic working, based on the alchemist's unique matrix and circle combination.

Each circle-matrix combination must be in perfect Arithmantic balance for the transmutation to work correctly - that is to say, every equation and variable used in it's creation must all eventually be able to be collapsed into the equation 1=1. If this is not the case, the transmutation will fail, and nothing will happen_ to the objects being transmuted__. This is why so many who would call themselves alchemists have never progressed beyond the initial circle-matrix design shown previously. Incidentally, that particular design has only fifteen Arithmantic variables, and only five equations._ _To create a Philosopher__'s Stone, there must be one hundred equations used to represent the circle-matrix design, with each variable in those equations representing an ingredi__ent to be used in the creation of that alchemsit's Stone. Some Philosopher's Stones have tens of thousands of ingredients, and indeed the one that I myself created contained twenty-two thousand, seven hundred and eighty-four (22'784) ingredients._

When the Stone is complete, however, it will always look the same - a perfect sphere, to represent the perfect balance that created it, with a blood-red colour. Depending on the creator's intent, the Stone can be the size of a marble, or the size of a human fist._ The Stone is most commonly known for it's supposed ability to transform any metal into pure gold. This is absolute nonsense, as any alchemist who knows the basic facts about gold and the metal they are using as a base can transmute said metal into gold. What the Stone actually does is far more impressive. Using the Stone's power, an alchemist can almost completely ignore the Law of Equivalent Exchange - though not, it must be said, the taboo on human transmutation - as the Stone will lend it's power to any transmutation, reducing the initial amount of base material necessary for the transmutation._

Using the Stone, it is possible to create a homunculus - a human body without a soul, which can be inhabited by a wandering spirit, or used as an automaton by the creator._ It should be noted that invariably, the homunculus form will absorb the Stone used in it's creation into itself. Homunculi, and the creation of such, will be addressed in the next chapter of this book._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A/N: Well, there we go. The other Gryffindors are starting to get a bit more involved, and Harry learns a bit more about Alchemy. But just who wrote the book that Hogwarts gave to Harry? And what will the other Gryffindors do now that they know about the Stone? That second question can be the question for this chapter. What should the others do, now that they know about the Stone being in danger? As always, thank you for your reviews, and please leave some more.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello, everyone! Just a quick update on the stats for this story, it is now, by a margin of two, my most reviewed story ever written! *breaks out party hats* Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, but beyond that, thank you to those 149 people who have followed the story, the 66 who have favourited it, and the 3'417 people who have read it in the first place. 3 chapters, 7k+ words, and all this praise for it. I guess I have to keep going now, don't I? Questions will be answered, new questions will be raised. But how many of each? Read on, and find out...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Gryffindors had taken their promise to heart. By the next morning, ten of the best upper year students had arranged a timetable for each of them to keep an eye on the third floor corridor, and a further seven had formed a guard of honour to surround Harry when he was near Snape. Unfortunately, they couldn't come to class with him, but the other first years had promised to help in class. Harry was a little shocked by the fact that so many people were giving up their time to help out, but another first year, Fay Dunbar, said it best.

"In the animal kingdom, when you attack one lion, the whole pride fights back. We're the lions of Hogwarts, and one of our pride has been threatened."

Fred and George burst into a round of applause, causing the girl to blush and duck her head, but Harry thought she completely deserved the applause. The entire house was indeed acting like a pride of lions - preparing to fight back against anyone who dared hurt a member of the pride. The honour guard assembled, and the whole house walked down to breakfast. Percy was walking on one side of Harry, with Ron and Hermione on the other side.

"The most important thing, Harry, is that the school sees us united. If they think there's a weakness, then they'll attack. It's the same with whoever is trying to kill you, and steal the Stone. They think they're just dealing with the teachers. They won't expect us to defend you and the Stone ourselves. And that element of surprise will help us."

"Wow, Percy. I didn't know you were this good with tactics."

"Ron had to learn how to play chess from someone, Harry."

The Gryffindors entered the Great Hall, and silence fell. The other three houses were busy trying to figure out why the Gryffindors looked ready for war, and the teachers weren't far behind. The guard started to head for the teachers' table, which prompted Harry to ask Percy what was going on.

"We decided we would give the Headmaster one last chance to do the right thing and investigate our claims properly, Harry. If he doesn't, we'll go up a level."

Dumbledore was already standing to meet them when they arrived. "What, may I ask, is happening here, Mr Weasley?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I would like to report an attempted murder against a student of Hogwarts." Percy had spoken loudly deliberately, and it had worked - every student and member of staff, and even the House ghosts, were now hanging on his every word.

Dumbledore was now looking rather grave. "I see. If I may ask, who is it that has perpetrated this attack, and who was the intended victim?"

"I'm sure the teachers who were present can all remember the rather spectacular first Quidditch game of the season, sir. The attack was against Harry James Potter, and the perpetrator of said crime was none other than Severus Snape!"

Gasps echoed round the hall, and Dumbledore was not looking grave anymore - in fact, he looked rather like he had swallowed a lemon. "Mr Weasley, Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher. He would not attempt to attack a student."

"I'm afraid your logic is flawed, sir." The female prefect, a girl named Olivia Carrudas, stepped forward, taking over. "The attack was perpetrated during the match. Hence, the wards on the stadium were active. Thus, the students could not have cast the spell. The players surrender their wands before each match unless there is a very good reason not to do so. Thus, it could not have been another player. That leaves three options. One, someone walked onto the pitch and cast the spell. They would have been noticed quickly, so that can be ruled out."

Percy stepped forward, taking over again. "The referee could have been the one to cast the spell, but again, Madam Hooch would have been noticed easily, considering all eyes were on the field at the time. That leaves only one option. Someone in the staff box cast the spell. Since all eyes were on the field at the time, they would not have been spotted before some damage was done. Of the people in that box during the incident, only one has a noted history of antagonism towards the target of the attack. Thus, the most logical explanation we can come to with the evidence currently available, is that Severus Snape attempted to murder Harry Potter. Even if he did not, the fact remains that a member of staff was the one to attack Harry. We would like an investigation to be started, and all contact between Harry and Mr Snape to cease until the conclusion of said investigation."

If Dumbledore had looked like he had swallowed a lemon before, he now looked as though a crate of them had been shoved down his throat. "Mr Weasley, I would like to remind you that as Headmaster of this school, I am in charge, not you, and I do not appreciate students dictating terms to me. I have already looked into the incident in question, and Severus is innocent of what you have accused him of."

"Beg your pardon, sir, but I have two points to bring up. Firstly, I did not dictate terms to you, I merely asked for an investigation into the incident. My second request was nothing more than what the DMLE would have insisted upon, in the interest of safety. Secondly, I would appreciate it if Harry at least could see some solid evidence of Mr Snape's innocence in this matter, since it is, in fact, his life at stake."

The entire hall could see Dumbledore's left eyebrow twitch, which set off a round of muttered comments. "Mr Weasley, as I just said, I am the Headmaster of this school, and I do not see any reason to pander to your demands. I have already informed you of Professor Snape's innocence, and I do not appreciate you questioning my honesty."

Olivia stepped forward again. "Sir, we are not questioning your honesty. We merely feel that Harry at least has the right to see the evidence of Snape's innocence. And even if Snape is innocent, that still means that another member of Hogwarts staff is attempting to kill at least one of the students. Would it not be more sensible to call in the DMLE, and request a full investigation? It is technically your obligation to the students of Hogwarts, sir."

"Enough! I am already conducting an internal investigation, the results of which are not available to any member of the public, Miss Carrudas. Now, take your seats, and eat your breakfasts, or I will take house points for this insolence."

The Gryffindors stared for a moment, before turning and taking their seats - though none of them turned their backs on the staff, which was not lost on the rest of the school. A couple of older students from Ravenclaw came over, and after a whispered conversation with a couple of third years, returned to their table, nodding to their friends, which sparked a rash of whispering throughout the hall. Even the Slytherins were curious, though for some, the curiosity was directed differently.

"Hannah, do you think it's true? That Snape tried to kill Harry?"

"Don't know, Sue. But if I was them, I'd definitely get the Aurors involved. This isn't some silly schoolboy hex, this was attempted murder! The whole school saw it, too!"

"Yeah, you're right. I wrote home to Auntie, but two weeks later she wrote back asking why I hadn't written recently. I think someone is trying to keep things quiet, and from what we just saw, my money's on the Headmaster."

Cedric Diggory leaned over at this point. "You're right, I found out the same thing. I wrote home after Halloween about the troll getting in, but from what I could gather from my mum's next letter, she never got that one. Someone in Hogwarts must have put up a mail redirect keyed to certain words. The problem there is, only a member of Hogwarts staff can alter the wards. Cuts down the suspects quite a bit, huh?"

A quiet first year Hufflepuff named Sally-Anne Perks piped up. "I'm muggleborn, so I admit I don't really know much about the magical world, but I know about education in the muggle world, and if the Headmaster of a school there tried to pull that with me, mum and dad would have me in a different school so fast my head would spin!"

"Yeah, only problem is, there aren't many schools of magic in Europe. The three big ones are Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, and out of them, only Hogwarts has an English-speaking population. That doesn't stop the purebloods from enrolling their children in multiple schools, of course."

"What? Why would they do that, Ernie?"

"Well, it's in case their child gets expelled. Normally, if you're expelled from school, your wand is snapped, your memory erased, and your magic bound. Protects the knowledge of our world's existence. That can be avoided though. If you're enrolled in more than one school, if you're expelled from one, you continue your education at another one. Purebloods use it as a safety net, Justin. The other schools don't charge tuition unless the child starts attending their school."

Justin and Sally-Anne exchanged horrified glances. "But what about muggleborn? What about people who don't know about that little tradition?"

Ernie MacMillan looked confused. "But everyone knows it. Why would people not know about it?"

An older girl interjected. "People who grew up around magic know about it, Ernie. Muggleborns don't get that lot explained to them, because 'everyone knows it'. Problem is, these days only the purebloods know it, because they don't bother letting the rest of us know. If my mum weren't pureblood, I wouldn't know it. Word of advice, kids? Write to Beauxbatons. Ask to enroll, but as a safety option. They offer an amulet that translates French to English and vice versa, until you're comfortable speaking the langauge. They get tons of requests, yours'll just be one more on the pile. Oh, I'm Valena, by the way. Valena Owens."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By dinner that day, not one student in Hogwarts would turn their back on the staff table, and the seventh years in each house had their wands out, a shield charm on their lips. The staff were more divided than they had ever been before. Behind a powerful silencing ward, Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall were almost coming to blows with one another.

"If a member of staff is trying to kill a student, then I demand that we get the Aurors in here immediately Minerva!"

"Filius, you heard what Albus said, he is conducting an internal investigation!"

"To hell with his internal investigations, Minerva! I want to know who did this, and what they want!" The rest of the staff stopped arguing and looked on in shock, though whether it was because Pomona Sprout - the most mild-mannered woman any of them knew - had yelled, or because she had sworn, no one knew. McGonagall herself flinched back as through the Herbology teacher had struck her, before rallying.

"Enough, Pomona! The Headmaster's word has always been good enough for you before now, what is different this time?"

"Perhaps, Minerva, it is the fact that all those times were merely complaints about overly harsh disciplinary methods. Something which, while clearly unscrupulous, is not actually illegal. This, however, is a capital crime that we are talking about. Attempted murder against a student we promised to protect and nurture when we became teachers at this school. Who's to say that whoever it was won't try again? And how many innocent students will be in harms way, simply because one psychopath wants to murder a child? I used to respect you, Minerva, but it is becoming very clear to me that you are not the person I thought you were. If you won't do something about this, then I will refuse to allow my Hufflepuffs to go anywhere near the dungeons. If that means footing the bill for a private Potions tutor for them, so be it."

"An excellent idea, Pomona, and if I may be so bold, I have a few contacts within the guild. I believe I could quite easily contact several of them to see if they would be interested. My Ravenclaws would of course be doing the same. Let it never be said that Filius Flitwick stood back and let innocent children be endangered."

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his usual seat, listening to the conversations - alright, arguments was more appropriate - going on around him, desperately trying to figure out how to regain some measure of control over the situation. He hadn't been this out of control since his mother's death, and it was not a sensation he enjoyed. Somehow, the Gryffindors had convinced Harry to talk to them about the Quidditch match, but how? From all his observations thus far, Harry was a quiet, shy young boy who preferred to stay out of the spotlight when possible. So why was he now opening up about so much to people he barely knew?

And as for Percy Weasley, that boy was an enigma wrapped in a puzzle this year, too. He had been a model student for the four years prior to this one, so why was he now becoming so...rebellious? His threat about getting the DMLE involved in the situation was an empty threat, he was sure, and even if it wasn't, the post wards around the school would redirect any letters to his office for review before being sent on. Or not, if the information was too damaging - the troll incident at Halloween sprang to mind. His plan was finally beginning, and he needed a free hand to move the pieces with. If the Aurors got involved, that free hand would be tied behind his back. Most likely with handcuffs.

Albus was many things, but he was not an idiot. He knew he was doing illegal things, just as knew he would continue to do illegal things. He didn't enjoy that fact, but he simply had no choice. The law wouldn't understand the situation, especially not when it came to destroying the Horcrux he was almost certain was in Harry's scar. He had read more books on soul magic than Voldemort, he was certain, and still, the only way he could find to destroy a Horcrux was to destroy its container. And so he needed to get the eyes of the students - and staff - somewhere else, just long enough to gather his wits.

But how to do so? He could throw the students a bone, and ask Severus to take a public oath stating that he hadn't attempted to kill Harry. But that had its own set of problems. Specifically, Severus' pride would never allow him to take such an oath. What to do, what to do? An idea suddenly struck him like a bolt of lightning, and he turned to Severus, throwing up an extremely powerful silencing ward around them.

"Severus, we both know that this incident won't blow over so easily. Clearly, the Gryffindors aren't going to stop asking questions unless they get some answers. So, I believe there is a way to give them what they want, without humiliating you in the process by asking for a magical oath."

The younger man raised one eyebrow, in a way that Albus had long since learned meant 'go on'. "You are well aware that if one witch or wizard owes another a life debt, they cannot attempt to kill the person the debt is owed to? Since James died without the debt between you fulfilled, that debt has transferred to young Harry. If we tell this to the students, then there is no possible way they can believe you guilty. What do you think, Severus?"

Like Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape was no idiot. He knew that Amelia Bones hated any Death Eater who had escaped justice, especially after two of them had murdered her brother and sister four years after the Dark Lord's downfall. He also knew that if she got the chance, she would put him on a diet of flushing potions, before dosing him to the gills with Veritaserum. This seemed an easy alternative to the situation, and so he readily agreed. His life here was relatively cushy, and he even got to terrorise the snot nosed little brats whose parents once tormented him!

Upon receiving Severus' agreement, Albus stood up, and began to address the hall. "Everyone, your attention, please. I understand that many of you have been rather...curious, about Professor Snape's possible involvement in a certain incident. He has asked me to inform you all as to the reason he could not be responsible for this. It is, of course, a matter that normally he would have preferred remain private, but given the circumstances, he has decided that I should inform you. Professor Snape owed Mr. Potter's father a life debt, one which was unfulfilled at the time of James Potter's death. As many of you sitting here today know, if one witch or wizard owes another a life debt, they cannot even attempt to take action which would result in that person's death. I do hope that now that this business is sorted, that we can move past it, and return to the normal day to day schoolwork."

Hermione stood up, shocking Albus to his core. "I'm normally the last person who would think like this, sir, but even if Professor Snape is innocent - and from what you've just told us, I see no reason, at the moment, to believe him guilty - then there is still a member of Hogwarts staff sitting at the table with you, who attempted to murder one of my best friends. My parents did not send me to this school so that my life could be threatened on a daily basis, Headmaster. Once, myself and my two best friends nearly died. Another time, one of the two has nearly died. Both of those incidents could only have been caused by a member of staff at Hogwarts, sir. I may just be one student, but personally, I don't think I want any part of Magical Britain if this is typical of what your attitudes towards children are. I can't help but notice that you didn't mention anything about investigating further, to find the true culprit behind these attacks, sir."

A rash of whispering broke out amongst the students once again at her pronouncement, but Albus wasn't even paying attention. Collapsing into his chair with shock, his brain started trying to reconcile all the information it was being bombarded with.

'How on earth did that happen? I thought that proving to them that Severus was innocent would throw them for a loop, I wasn't ready for that Granger chit to start asking questions like that. Why did she even ask that, anyway? The compulsion charm I put on her when she got here should have made it impossible for her to question me. Hell, none of them should have been able to get around the charms! What in Hecate's name is going on here?!'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep beneath the ground, the ancient crystal that held the center of Hogwarts' intelligence flared briefly, before its luminance faded to a dull, weak light. The last thought that passed through her extensive mind before she fell into deep slumber was, 'I've done all I can. It's up to you now, children.' In the faint light, an enormous body coiled itself around the pillar that supported the crystal, the dull light glinting slightly off scales, and a large, poisonous-yellow eye blinked once, sleepily, before joining its ward in unconsciousness once again.

_~Come quick, child of Salazar. Our lady has not much strength within her.~_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Ha! A few more hints at what is happening in Hogwarts in this chapter, and finally, the first hint as to where exactly the ward crystal of Hogwarts is. A few responses to reviews here. Firstly, no, Harry is not the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin. That was just the way Hogwarts thought of him. Secondly, yes, I've read a lot of stories where Hogwarts does everything, and Harry basically stands back and watches someone else kick ass for him. Not going to happen in this story. Hogwarts is powerful, yes, but only when she has people she can act through. She drained herself of almost every drop of power she had to break Dumbledore's spells, and even then she only managed one house, and one spell at that. We won't see much of her from now on, since she has no power left until her wards recharge. Or Harry finds the crystal and recharges them for her, either or. Longest chapter yet, so yay for me. No question this chapter, but feel free to review anyway. It's free, and it's polite. So do it, or I'll send Augusta Longbottom to give you a lesson in manners. Muahahahaha!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello everyone! 57 reviews for four chapters, that's better than any other story I've ever written. Some general housekeeping before we begin this chapter. First, T H Enesley, thanks for the review, and yes, I agree that if a writer gets too much input from the readers, it's not really their story anymore. So you'll be glad to know that from now on, the only questions asked to the audience will be relatively minor things, that don't have much impact on the overall plot.

Second, to my guest reviewer, I know, I'm an awful person for getting hundreds of storylines in my head at once. Trying to focus on which one to write is difficult, as any writer will tell you. But I have every intention of finishing this story, and all the other stories I've written. (With the possible exceptions of my really early work. My god, was I lame back then.)

Carick of hunter moon, you're absolutely right, Ron is definitely not Slytherin material. (Although given how ambitious he was shown to be in the first book, maybe he is? Food for thought.) But neither Ron or Hermione are actually working for Dumbledore, or at least they aren't aware of it. Finally, (Yes, I hear your gasps of relief.) the life debt between Harry and Snape doesn't play much of part beyond this. In fact, life debts won't come up very often at all, except in obvious cases. (Ginny, Pettigrew. Though maybe not even Ginny.) And as for the students giving orders, they weren't actually giving orders. They were asking for reassurance. After all, one of their own was nearly killed. And in regards to not getting access to the information proving Snape's innocence, come on, they're children! When you were eleven to seventeen years old, did you know every law of your country in exacting detail? They were scared, and wanted to know that they were safe.

Anyway, I've rambled on for far too long. Hope this cleared up at least some of your queries/concerns! On to the story, and I own nothing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lord Voldemort was angry. This would, at one time, have caused young children to cry in terror, and grown men and women to run for the hills, screaming in abject horror. Unfortunately, at the moment there was only two people who could actually confirm that the most feared British Dark Lord in two centuries was even alive. And one of those people was said Dark Lord himself! So for now, all Voldemort could do was stew in his own hatred, and plot schemes of torturous revenge against the boy responsible for his current state of disembodiedness. (The tiny portion of his mind that said that the boy in question had only been a year old at the time, and thus couldn't have actually done anything, was quickly silenced.)

Unfortunately for the Dark Lord's current host, one Quirinus Quirrell, when his master was angry, he tended to give Quirrell one hell of a headache, and no potion or spell would offer any form of relief from the pain. This in turn often meant that Quirrell messed up the plans due to lack of concentration, which in turn made Voldemort even angrier. It was a vicious cycle, and Quirinus was beginning to deeply regret ever agreeing to serve the Dark Lord he had met in Albania. Still, it would be worth it, he assured himself. After all, Lord Voldemort had promised to give Quirrell a nice little slice of the world to rule as his own for his loyalty, along with his own Philosopher's Stone. As much gold as he wanted, and absolute power over many people, sounded like an excellent deal to Quirrell. And if he had to put up with a little discomfort along the way? Well, he would repay it in kind to his subjects once his master returned to power.

But for that to happen, he had to obtain the Philosopher's Stone, and in order to do that, he would need to figure out the traps surrounding it, and how to break them. He already had Sprout's trap. Fool of a woman was far too trusting of the other guards, and even if she wasn't, she had no Occlumency training. It had been easy for his master to simply pluck the knowledge from her mind. Flitwick, on the other hand, had been a master duellist, and held a Mastery in Charms. All duellists learned a little bit of Occlumency. Not much, but enough to stop their opponents from plucking their plan of attack out of their heads. And to detect any attempt to breach their mental defenses. McGonagall and Hagrid were both protected by spells of Dumbledore's invention, and his master was just cautious enough about Snape's loyalties to refuse to chance revealing his presence to him.

And of course, those blasted brats had managed to make Flitwick suspicious enough that he never went anywhere without his Occlumency shields in place. Still, it didn't really matter. Once he was past that bloody Cerberus - and he just knew he had read how to get past one somewhere - he could create a Portkey that would take him to his own trap. Which meant, according to the order Dumbledore had asked them to place their defenses in, he only actually needed to know how to get past Hagrid's and Snape's defenses. Snape's was bound to be a potion of some kind, so Quirinus had already stocked up on various antidotes, and a host of other potions that might be useful. Now if only he could find a way to get past that bloody mutt!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the library, a group of students were sitting round a table. This in itself would not normally be unusual, but the fact that there were students from multiple houses and years present, along with a number of fairly advanced - for their stage - wards around the table, made it rather noteworthy.

"So, do we have any new information?"

"Yeah, we do, Diggory. From what I can tell, Weasley's threat to go to the Aurors has spooked Dumbledore so badly, any message at all is being redirected to his office. Even if it has nothing to do with what's happening at the moment."

"Adrian's right. I sent two letters to my mother, both with tracking charms on them. One described what was going on in Hogwarts at the moment, and asked her to talk to someone at the Ministry. The second one was Professor Sprout's recipe for homemade ginger cookies. Both of them went to Dumbledore's office. The wards around it destroyed the tracking charms though."

"I tried using the Ravenclaw Common Room Floo connection to talk to mum at the Ministry. When I added the Floo powder, nothing happened. Dumbledore is definitely trying to block communications. The worst bit, though, is that none of the other teachers are doing anything to stop him."

"Hang on, Edgecombe. How can you be sure they even know what's happening. From what my parents have told me, Dumbledore isn't in the habit of sharing information."

"That's true, Blaise, but McGonagall at least must know about it. After all, to put a schoolwide mail redirection up, it requires both the Headmaster and his Deputy to sign off on it."

The other students glanced at each other, silently noting that one more nail had just been hammered into Dumbledore's coffin.

"Alright. I think it's obvious we aren't going to get any information out of the school at the moment. So we need to wait until we get a chance to turn the tables, then hit Dumbledore as hard as we can. You saw what he thought of us. The man was confronted with evidence that a member of staff is trying to kill at least one student. And you know something? I'm willing to bet that whatever is going on, it has something to do with the third floor corridor that they sealed off."

"Yeah. My money's on that, too. I think the Gryffindors know more about that than we do. Rumour from one of my sources says they know what's being hidden in there."

Marcus Flint was surprised, but didn't let it show. He was a Slytherin, after all. "Alright, Pucey, find out what you can. If the Gryffindors want to discuss what's going on with the rest of us, so much the better. Make sure they understand that we are trying to help. Slytherin I may be, but none of my family will bow to anyone. Least of all a Dark Lord."

The younger Slytherin Chaser nodded, before heading off to meet with his 'sources'. The rest of the group split up and went off to find out any information they could. Hannah Abbott was heading back down to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Susan would be very interested to know that someone was putting illegal mail redirection wards on children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Up in Gryffindor Tower, the mood was pensive. The prefects were sat around a table, heads bowed together as they pored over a list of ideas for getting help from outside the school. The younger students were also clustered round various tables, trying to come up with ideas on what was guarding the Philosopher's Stone. So far, the only thing they had confirmed, was that Fluffy the Cerberus was one obstacle.

"Argh! This is impossible! How, exactly, are we meant to figure out what the traps are? We don't even know who is setting the traps, for one. And even if we did, there are hundreds of possibilities! In Herbology alone, one textbook contains information on over two hundred species of plants that are fatal to humans! I never thought I would say this, but I wish there was less information!"

Olivia looked over at Hermione Granger, who had slammed the book she was reading closed mid-rant, and chuckled to herself. "They're not having an easy time of it, are they?"

Thomas Dunbar, Fay's older brother, looked round. "No, they aren't. It would be easier if we knew of any other unusual or rare magical artifacts in the school. But without knowing that, we're down to guesswork. At best."

Harry's head suddenly shot up, before he ran over to the prefects' table. "Say that again."

"Say what again?"

"About magical artifacts."

"It would be easier if we knew about other magical artifacts in the school?"

Harry was, by this point, practically bouncing with excitement. Rushing over to their table, he quickly dragged Ron to his feet, who looked rather bemused. "Ron and I have already seen something like that! Remember, Ron? The mirror?"

A spark of recognition flared in Ron's eyes for a moment. "Oh, right! The Mirror of Erised!"

"Exactly! Dumbledore explained what it does to me. Apparently, it shows us the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. It showed me my mum and dad..." Harry trailed off at this point, but in all honesty, he didn't have to say any more. Once the others figured out what he had meant by that, there was hardly a dry eye in the room. And though he would deny it till the day he died, even Cormac McLaggen had a tear in his eye. Of course, if anyone asked, it was dusty in the tower that day. That was all.

Olivia Carrudas jumped up and folded her arms around Harry in a hug, which caught him by surprise, making him flinch slightly. She didn't let go though, explaining that, "Everyone needs to mourn if they've lost someone dear to them. Even if it's long after they're gone, the pain never really goes away." Though she didn't know it at the time, that was the first time anyone had ever told Harry James Potter that it was alright to grieve, and even though he tried to keep it locked up, eventually he just gave in, and sobbed quietly. The rest of the common room was near silent, too, as anyone who had lost family took a moment to remember them.

Olivia was no fool, and she had noticed the way Harry flinched away from physical contact. But now, she decided, was not the time to worry about that. There would be a time to ask about that later. For now, a young boy had lost his parents, and was upset. And it was her job as prefect to offer what comfort she could.

Hermione's head was bowed in remembrance of her Great-Uncle Hector, but she added the words, 'Mirror of Erised?' to the parchment in front of her anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape were currently sitting in the former's office, trying to figure out a way of getting things back to normal in Hogwarts. Albus had originally thought about including Minerva in this conversation, but ultimately decided against it, simply because something was telling him he might need to break several laws in order to keep things from spiralling out of control. He had already set up a redirection ward that brought any outgoing post from Hogwarts (and Hogsmeade, though even Severus didn't know about that one) to his office, but that was not going to be enough in this case. If things continued to get out of hand, he might need to consider Obliviating the entire student body, but he was reluctant to do that at this stage. After all, they couldn't contact anyone, and any complaints by students or parents to the Board of Governors had to go through him first. He had used that loophole to his advantage, getting rid of any complaints against Severus. And if any made it through, he had a perfectly legal excuse to get the complaint thrown out. After all, a complaint couldn't be acted on without his say so, unless it was a criminal investigation. And with Lucius Malfoy bribing Fudge, there was no way Severus would be investigated.

But for now, he needed to do damage control. The students had caught him, as the Muggles were fond of saying, with his pants around his ankles, and he needed to pull them back up quickly. Turning to face Severus, Albus contemplated what to say.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Albus?"

"No, my boy, I am not. Now, we need to discuss how to react to this situation."

"Put the arrogant little shits in detention for the rest of the year, they'll soon sing a different tune after dissecting fifty barrels of horned toads apiece!"

"That is exactly the attitude that landed us in this mess in the first place, Severus! The harsher we are right now, the more the students will rebel. For now, we need to give them something else to worry over. Giving them all detention would merely make them hate us all the more. No, what we need to do now is keep them happy. Perhaps...hmm, yes, that could work."

"What, Albus? What's going on in that brain of yours?"

"The students insist on an investigation, yes? Well, by all means, let's give them one. Alastor is, after all, a former Auror. Surely calling him in to investigate the situation will put their minds at ease, and let them think we are taking them seriously."

"When in actuality, you control everything about the investigation. Genius as always, Albus. How soon can you contact him?"

"I can have him here by tomorrow morning. Now, how goes the situation with Quirrell and the Stone?"

"The fool continues to try and obtain information from that oaf, Hagrid. So far, he hasn't been stupid enough to approach me for information. How much has Potter discovered?"

"So far? He has seen the Mirror of Erised, and I have explained it to him. From what I saw in his mind, he has also discovered that it is, in fact, the Stone which is being held at Hogwarts. He has encountered Hagrid's pet Cerberus, Fluffy, I believe he calls it, and Miss Granger has informed him that it was guarding something. I still don't understand what went wrong with that girl. The compulsion charms to increase her trust in authority figures exponentially should have worked. They did work, in fact, as I confirmed it not two days ago."

"Perhaps there is some kind of outside interference?"

"Then why have they not shown themselves? Or gone to the Aurors? No, I think it is far more likely that Miss Granger's concern for Mr Potter simply overwhelmed the charms. I'll have to find a time and opportunity to reapply them."

"Will you not just let me lace the food at breakfast with potions? It would only take a few days to prepare a variant of the Unctuous Unction, and then they would all be staring up at you with the usual reverence and awe once again. And there are potions that could make them supress certain memories, you know..."

"Not yet, my friend. Keep that plan in reserve, in case of an emergency. For now, they are cut off from the rest of the world. But those memory suppression potions sound useful. Untraceable?"

"Have my potions ever let you down before?"

"No, indeed they have not. Very well, Severus. The day before we send them home for the Easter holidays, we'll lace the food with those memory suppressors. That will keep the Aurors from looking too closely at Hogwarts, and give us time to rally, and perhaps even counterattack."

Severus Snape left the Headmaster's office with a decidedly unholy smirk on his face, snapping at Hannah Abbott on his way past, and managing to take forty points from Hufflepuff before she ran off in tears. Yes, it was a good night to be Severus Tobias Snape, he decided.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TRANSMUTATION~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout were also sitting in the former's office that evening, enjoying a nice evening cup of tea, and discussing the latest turn of events in Hogwarts.

"What I don't understand, Filius, is why Albus is so reluctant to involve the Aurors. It is their job to deal with things like this, after all."

Filius smiled at his colleague. Pomona was new, only having been teaching at Hogwarts for three years, and had not yet learned the unspoken rule of Hogwarts. What Albus Dumbledore wants, Albus Dumbledore gets. That wasn't, of course, to say that the half-goblin professor approved of this rule. Quite the contrary, he would quite prefer that no one paid any attention to that particular rule. And judging by the reactions of several Gryffindors today, he might be getting his wish.

"Albus has always preferred to keep things in-house, so to speak. I've no idea why, and whenever I ask, he fobs me off with the usual drivel about keeping the children free to grow up without undue external influence, or whatever the excuse of the day is. All I know for certain is, he isn't likely to change any time soon."

"But if the children are in danger, then how can he possibly justify any of this? The students have just proven irrefutably that they are in danger, that we are all in danger, and yet he stands there and pretends nothing is wrong! How can we possibly allow a man like that to be in charge of our nation's children?"

Filius sighed. Poor Pomona was beginning to see what his goblin brethren had seen for years. Britain was just too dependant on Albus Dumbledore. Even when the man made bad decisions, they were excused, simply because 'everyone makes mistakes'. A soft knock on the door interrupted his musings. "Enter."

Septima Vector pushed the door open, leading Hannah Abbott into the room. Even from the other side of the room, Filius could see that she had been crying recently. Pomona was already out of her seat, one arm draped around the girl's shoulder, her other hand waving her wand, conjuring a soft, comfortable armchair for the poor child. Once she had the young girl settled, she called for one of the house elves to provide a cup of hot cocoa. The little elf went one step beyond, and added marshmallows after seeing young Hannah.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

"I *sniff* I was going back to my dorm room, and Snape walked past. He shouted at me for bumping into him, and when I said that I hadn't even touched him, he took forty points off me for lying to a teacher. Then he said that I was a useless student, and that I'd never amount to anything more than a street-witch in Knockturn Alley."

There were various expressions in the room after that. Hannah had started to cry again, Septima looked shocked at the idea that a teacher would ever dare say something like that to a student, Pomona was a mixture of shock and outrage, but it was Filius whose face was most terrifying to behold. Had anyone seen him at that point, they would never have doubted he had goblin blood in him. After all, only goblins could pull off the 'I'm-going-to-reach-down-your-throat-rip-out-your-lungs-and-beat-you-round-the-head-with-them' look _properly_.

One thing was certain, tomorrow would be full of surprises.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~HOMUNCULUS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Well, five chapters of this story done. I think I'll take a few days to work on some other stories for a while. Next update should be done by the end of the week. Oh yes, to the reviewer who asked about an update schedule, I don't really have one. I write whent inspiration hits me, so sometimes I can go several weeks without getting a good idea, and other times I'll be able to knock out three chapters a week. Sorry that I can't be more specific. Hoped you enjoyed the chapter, my dear readers, and until next time, I remain your stylish and witty crusader for the truth.

The Hunter747 (Ten points to your house if you can tell me which character I just paraphrased!)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, so I said I was taking a break, but I decided against it. This story is too much fun to write! As always, thanks for the reviews, and please leave some more. I own nothing from this story except possibly the plot. And even that might be debatable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At breakfast the next morning, there was quite a lot of hushed muttering, most of it focused around the man - if he could even be called that - who was sat next to Dumbledore at the Head Table. Dumbledore stood up after most of the students were done eating, and the hall fell silent, eager to hear him put his foot in his mouth again.

"Ahem. Students, as you are all no doubt aware, there has been a recent attack upon a student at this school."

Even McGonagall rolled her eyes at that announcement, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Get on with it.' Perhaps sensing the animosity, Albus hurried on.

"Now, in the interest of ensuring student safety, I have invited an old friend of mine to visit the castle and investigate these unusual occurences. Will you please give a warm welcome to Mr Alastor Moody!"

The...man...stood up, looking up for the first time that morning, and several students screamed. A rather girlish scream was heard from the section of the Slytherin table near Draco Malfoy, but no one admitted to anything. It was understandable though. To Harry's eye, Alastor Moody looked to have been carved out of a chunk of wood by a blind person with only the vaguest idea of what a human should look like. He had one normal, mud-brown eye, and another that jutted out from his face, whizzing around in the odd metal contraption that held it in place. The second eye was a bright, electric-blue colour, and Harry felt distinctly unnerved when the eye settled on him. He got the feeling that the eye had some sort of special ability, and he didn't like the idea at all.

Beyond that, though, Alastor Moody's face was pitted and scarred, a chunk missing from his nose, and what seemed like a knife slash on his left cheek. When he walked out from behind the table, the students could see that one of his legs was made of wood, and ended in not a foot, but a claw. Stepping up to the podium, he opened his mouth to speak, and Vincent Crabbe fainted. To be fair, not everyone expects to meet a man with half his tongue missing, so you couldn't really blame him for it. Frowning at the boy, Moody continued.

"Albus invited me here to make sure the castle's safe. Don't get in my way, and I won't get in yours. We clear?"

After his rather brusque introduction, Moody stomped off, though where to, none of the students knew. Albus looked a little put out by Moody's abrasive greeting to the students, but sat back down to finish his orange juice. It was at this point that all hell broke loose. But don't blame the orange juice. It didn't have anything to do with it.

"SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS, ARROGANT, MURDERING SCUM!"

Now had this been Amelia Bones walking up the center aisle of the Great Hall, that statement might have sense. As it was, nobody was expecting such an outburst from sweet, kind Professor Sprout, least of all Snape himself, and so he was completely unprepared when she made it to the staff table, at which point she forewent the use of her wand, and simply slapped him hard enough that the centaurs heard it. She then went on to slap him again and again, yelling at him in between each slap.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH THINGS TO ANY CHILD, YOU ABSOLUTE VERMIN! I OUGHT TO PUSH YOUR HEAD UNDER THE LAKE AND HOLD IT THERE TILL THE BUBBLES STOP, AND YOU CAN BE DAMN SURE I'LL BE LETTING MISS ABBOTT'S PARENTS KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU SAID TO AND ABOUT THEIR DAUGHTER, YOU DEATH EATER SHIT! AND REST ASSURED, IF THEY PRESS CHARGES, I'LL BE TESTIFYING AT YOUR TRIAL. AGAINST YOU!"

By this point, Pomona's friend, Bathsheba Babbling, had come to her senses, and pulled her off of Snape before more damage could be done. Though truth be told, there wasn't much left of Snape's face to damage. Every inch of exposed skin was red and shining, with handprints all over the place, and his nose looked to have been broken in two different places.

Filius had arrived in the hall by this point, and when he saw what Pomona had managed to do to Snape's face, decided he had had enough for now. His goblin side couldn't help but admire her artistry with her bare hands though, and he found himself hoping to be able to buy a Pensieve soon, if only to relive this moment. Stepping to one side, he escorted Hannah back over to the Hufflepuff Table, before joined Bathsheba in restraining Pomona, who looked quite happy to go a second round with Snape. Albus and Minerva, meanwhile, were busy trying to get Snape out of Pomona's range before she got loose.

Cedric Diggory turned to look at the younger Hufflepuffs, who were looking to be one slap away from throwing themselves on the floor and worshipping Professor Sprout as a goddess. "And that, boys and girls, is why you don't mess with a badger's cubs."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Classes had been cancelled for the day, as Snape was busy having his face reconstructed - it turned out that Pomona had broken one of his cheekbones irreparably, and Madame Pomphrey had to vanish and regrow the bone entirely - and Professor Sprout was busy being fed a strict diet of extra strength Calming Draughts by Professor Flitwick.

When Hannah had told the others what had set the whole powder keg off, Dumbledore had to step in and ward the Hospital Wing against students entering, as nearly all of Hufflepuff were up in arms about the incident. Once word spread to the other houses, they joined in on the plots of revenge. Even some of the Slytherins joined in, mostly the half-bloods and those purebloods on the outermost fringes of Slytherin, but it was a start. With all four houses pooling their resources, it was inevitable that the Philosopher's Stone would be discussed.

"So what you're saying, Wood, is that someone in this school is trying to (A) Kill Potter, and (B) Steal the most coveted magical artifact in history? Merlin's pants, we've got our work cut out for us."

"Err, yeah, Flint. We're trying to figure out what's guarding the Stone, but so far we've only got one confirmed obstacle, and one potential obstacle."

"Why?"

"Erm, because we don't know whether or not-"

"No, not why do you only have two possible traps worked out, why are you trying to figure out the traps in the first place? What's the point?"

"Don't be stupid, Davies. Clearly, they are trying to figure out whether the Stone is adequately protected or not. And if not, add extra protections to it. Right, Oliver?"

"Umm...sure, Cedric. We'll go with that."

Marcus Flint coughed, made a comment about idiots without plans, and sniggered to himself. Roger Davies looked rather put out at being called an idiot, and Cedric facepalmed.

"Alright, fine. Anyone got any ideas how to get a letter out of the school yet?"

"None at all, Edgecombe. Floos are sealed, and those mail wards seem to extend around Hogsmeade for several miles, too. The Weasley twins got caught by McGonagall in Hogsmeade as they were trying to get past the boundaries. They set the owl loose, but it still headed to Dumbledore's office."

"Damn it all, Blaise. Potter, any bright ideas?"

Harry looked at the older Ravenclaw in surprise. "Me? I've no idea. Maybe we could make some sort of giant sign?"

"A giant sign? Saying what, exactly? 'Send help, Dumbledore is holding us hostage?'"

"Well I don't know, do I?"

"Enough, Marietta, Harry. Arguing like this will only make things worse."

"Fine, Percy. You think of something then."

Percy thought for a moment, a slight frown on his face. "At the moment, the only thing I can think of would be a giant sign. The real question is, why are we asking for outside help? Dumbledore started an investigation."

Cedric looked round. "Because, Percy, Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore are old friends. Anything Moody turns up will go through Dumbledore first."

"Damn. Alright, what should the sign say?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't honestly be thinking of making a giant sign, can you?"

"It's the best chance we have, Cho."

"Fine, Weasley. How about, 'Student in danger. Illegal mail wards round school and village. Get Aurors.' That sound okay?"

Cedric kissed Cho on the cheek. "That's perfect. All the necessary information, with no extra bits. Only question now is, how do we create it? The teachers will notice if we start building something that big, and then the whole plan is shot to hell."

The students gathered in an empty classroom all lapsed into silence, Hermione's brain almost visibly working a hundred miles a minute to figure out the answer. Harry looked in his book bag, hoping for inspiration. His hand brushed against ancient leather, and a smile made it's way onto his face. "Guys? I think I know how we can do this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were standing on top of the Astronomy Tower, as it had been agreed unanimously that this was the most visible point of the castle, as well as the largest open space inside the castle walls. They had debated on whether or not to use the grounds, but it was decided that the Forbidden Forest would block the view of their sign. Hermione burst through the door, a plastic tub in hand.

"I bribed Peeves with two bags of Dungbombs. This is at least half the chalk in the school, Harry."

Harry looked at her, a bemused expression on his face. "I think I've been a bad influence on you, Hermione."

Hermione blushed slightly, before retorting. "Maybe I've always wanted to misbehave like this. It's quite fun, really."

Sniggering to himself, Harry began to sprinkle the chalk into the shape of the transmutation circle from his book. Once complete, he stood up, and signalled to Oliver and Flint, still bemused by the fact that two such bitter rivals on the pitch could work together so well off the pitch. The two dragged the heavy fallen trees into place, having unshrunk them slightly.

He turned to look at Ron and the twins, all three of whom gave him a thumbs up sign to show they were ready. "All right. Unshrink the trees, guys."

The two fifth years cast their spells, silently grateful that Hagrid had cut down two more trees than he needed for the Christmas decorations this year. The trees expanded to their full size, which they all hoped would be large enough to create the sign. Harry stepped forward, slightly nervous. This was his first transmutation, and the book had said you should always start small. Looking at the circle and matrix, though, Harry felt something in him respond. It just felt natural to be standing by the transmutation circle, as natural as flying had felt in their first lesson, if he had to describe it.

Lifting his head, he slammed his palms down on the edge of the circle, and the blue glow the book had described began. The trees began to shift and waver, as though something was stretching and squashing them repeatedly, before they began to change shape competely, the base constituents of the wood rearranging themselves into the new shape that Harry demanded of them. This was so much more than Transfiguration, he decided. This was fantastic, what he was born to do! The trees were no longer recognizable as such, and the distinct words of their message were beginning to take shape. Footsteps echoed from the tower beneath them, but Harry paid them no heed. The others would slow Dumbledore and his lackeys down. Finally, the transmutation was complete.

The words, each letter five foot tall, loomed over the top of the tower. Harry sank to his knees, exhausted. It seemed that whoever wrote the book had definitely got that part right. It was even worse, since he had no real training in Alchemy, and most Alchemists didn't start training itself until their early twenties. Still, he raised his thumb, the agreed signal, and the three Weasleys set off the fireworks, Fred whooping excitedly.

"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes starts with a bang! Woohoo!"

Hermione rushed to the telescope, paying no heed to the fact that some of the stone from the tower had been needed to finish the message. Peering through it - they had already set it up to point directly at they village - she kept a running commentary of what she saw.

"There's lights coming on in the village guys! Wait, hang on. Yes! Some of the villagers are coming out of their houses! They're all looking at the school - the tower in particular! Wait, someone's seen the message, I think...yes! They just Disapparated! There goes another one. And another, and another! They're all going to get the Aurors!"

The Weasley twins high-fived one another, and Ron and Harry laughed together. Then, however, Dumbledore and Snape burst through the door. That quickly stopped their laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, what do you think. No Hogwarts this time, because she exhausted herself last chapter, poor dear. But Harry's first transmutation, and what a way to start, eh? But the word is out, and not even Albus Dumbledore can hope to slow down a rampaging Amelia Bones, as we soon shall see. So Cornelius Fudge? Not a snowball's chance in hell, I'm afraid. Also, badass Pomona! You go, Professor Sprout! I always see her being overlooked in stories, so in this one Snape's horrible behaviour was the last straw for her. It's not just lions that fight back when their family is threatened, after all. As always, don't forget to review, and I will see you all next time!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Time for your daily dose of transmutational goodness, folks! Last time, I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger, so this time round, we'll see what happens with Dumbles catching them red-handed. And we haven't heard from Quirrellmort recently, have we? If I need to disclaim all rights to Harry Potter by now, you clearly don't know me. From now on, I'll direct you to the first chapter, should anyone wish to refresh their memory as to why they point and laugh at my poorness. On with the story!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Uh-oh."

Dumbledore did not look amused. "Quite, Mr Weasley."

Marcus Flint turned to Snape and started pleading. "You have to believe me, sir, it was them, they put some kind of spell on me. I wouldn't have helped them if I had any other choice, sir, but please, you have to believe me!"

"Oh, I believe you, Mr Flint. Which is why you can come to the headmaster's office, and the two of us will undo any spells you might be under the influence of."

Flint paled rapidly at the failure of his gambit. About this time, another first year came crashing through the door. Hair all over the place from running through the hall, Fay Dunbar didn't look up while reporting to Oliver. "Oliver, the guards we posted by the third floor corridor are unconscious, and the door's ajar! I took a peek inside, and Fluffy was asleep, with a huge harp in the corner of the room!"

"Is he now? How very interesting, Miss Dunbar. Thank you for the information. Severus, if you would?"

"My pleasure, Headmaster." Snape waved his wand, and ropes flew through the air, tying Fay up, and causing her to topple to the ground, eyes wide with horror.

The two adult wizards levitated the bound students, floating them along behind them like oversized marionettes as they made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"Flint, if we go in Dumbledore's office, we aren't coming out with our memories intact, are we?"

"You're a damn fool if you think there's even the faintest hope of that, Potter! No, the only way out of this is if one of us can escape the ropes. And even then, one underage student against two fully trained adult wizards? Don't fancy those odds, particularly."

Flint's words sparked a memory that had been buried deeply in Harry's subconscious to come forth. He had been six, and Dudley and his gang had gotten hold of some rope somehow. They had tied him to a tree just before it started raining, before rushing home and leaving him there. "Flint, someone needs to stop whoever's after the Stone, right? And no one but us knows it's in danger, either, yeah?" Harry was whispering, but there wasn't much need to do so. Snape and Dumbledore were at the front of the odd group, deep in discussion and paying no attention to the captive students.

"Yeah, why?"

"I know how to get out of these ropes. My cousin tied me to a tree once, so I learned how to escape from ropes just in case. But I won't be any use in a duel against both of them. Or even one of them, for that matter."

"Damn, Potter. That's a useful party trick. Never mind about us. That Stone needs protected. If You-Know-Who comes back, it'll be war again. I lived through it once, lost two uncles and a grandmother to it. I don't want him back any more than you, so get to that Stone, and get it the hell away from...from Voldemort."

Harry nodded, before beginning to contort his body into shapes most humans would tell you were impossible. Five minutes passed as the two captors continued debating what to do with the students, and the captives floated silently behind them. Finally, Harry dropped to the group, using his robes to cushion the fall. Nodding to the others, he snuck through a secret passageway behind a tapestry, and headed towards the third floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'With the harp playing,' Harry thought, 'getting past Fluffy was rather easy.' Jumping down the open trapdoor, he landed on something surprisingly spongy feeling. Trying to stand up, he found it comparable to trying to wade through treacle tart - nearly impossible. Casting a Lumos charm, he was able to see what he was standing on, which to his surprise turned out to be a plant of some kind, and to his even greater surprise, seemed to be trying to wriggle away from the light from his wand.

"Geronimo!" *THWUMP* *THWUMP* *THWUMP* One yell, followed by three bodies, came flying down through the trapdoor. Moving his wand so it shed light on his mysterious companions, Harry was understandably shocked. "Neville? Lisa? Zabini?"

The young Slytherin brushed off his rooms, before speaking, identifying himself as the one to yell. "What, no first name basis for me, Potter? I'm hurt, I really am. Now can we get a move on. Whoever's after this Stone of yours is already ahead of us."

Harry wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated by the boy's flippant attitude, but settled for trying to keep moving. "Neville, you're the Herbology expert here. Any idea what this thing is?"

"Judging by it's behaviour and the shape of it's leaves, I'd say it was Devil's Snare. Professor Sprout mentioned it in passing in the first lesson, I think. Something about it liking dark, damp, growing conditions."

"Oh. No wonder it tried to get away from my-AGH!" Harry was cut off when the plant beneath him suddenly got enough of itself far enough away from his light that the remaining strands couldn't support his weight any longer, dropping him to the stone floor below.

"Harry?! Are you alright?"

Groaning, Harry glared up at Lisa for daring to ask. "Just peachy, barring the bruise on my bum! It's not too far a fall, if you're ready to fall, you'll be fine!"

Nodding, the others readied themselves, before casting their own lights onto the plant, dropping to the floor below with far more grace than Harry did.

"Bit less graceful on the ground, aren't you Potter?"

"If I had known it was going to do that, I wouldn't have fallen, Blaise."

"Alright, ladies. No handbags, please. Can we keep moving?"

Agreeing with Lisa, for now, Harry and Blaise pushed forward, trekking along a corridor that felt like it was longer than the school itself. When Harry pointed it out, Lisa stated that they were probably in a magically expanded pocket of space. Lisa Turpin was a bit of an oddity. Despite being a Ravenclaw, she was blunt and to the point, with a sarcastic wit that every Slytherin would kill for. Harry only knew her because he had been introduced when Flint and Oliver were holding one of their meetings.

The corridor ended rather abruptly, and Neville bumped his nose on the door before realizing that it was there. Blaise snickered at him, and Harry and Lisa frowned at Blaise's reaction. Pushing forward, Harry helped Neville to his feet, before pushing the door open and entering the room beyond it. The other three followed him, but nothing seemed to change in the room. The shadows flickered like there was a fire of some kind, and there was a door on the other side of the room. Oddly, it was Neville who spotted the trap first.

"Guys, look up!"

Looking at the ceiling, the four saw what they had missed. Hundreds and hundreds of bright, tiny birds were flying round the room, far beyond the reach of any human.

"Wow. Never even heard of a bird like that before. Wonder what species they are?"

Lisa's statement sparked a bit of curiosity in Harry, and he decided to put his Seeker skills to good use, squinting up at the birds, only to realize with a start that...

"They're not birds, Lisa! They're _keys_! _Winged_ keys!"

"Huh. You reckon one of them fits the lock on that door over there?"

"That would make sense, I guess."

"No it wouldn't, Potter. Why have the answer to the problem in the same room as the problem itself?"

The other three were brought up short by Blaise's logic. If the key wasn't in the room, they had no way to get the Stone to safety!

"It's in here. It has to be." Something clicked inside Harry's mind. "If someone's already been through here, they would have caught the right key already. It's wings will be crumpled!"

"You're right, Harry. Stand back. I read about a spell that might be able to help us here. It's called the Summoning Charm. Calls an object towards you."

"Okay, we'll stand by the door and get ready. I imagine once someone goes after the right key, the others won't just be pretty decorations anymore."

"Unlikely. Accio key that's already been caught!"

Three keys came zooming down from the ceiling towards Lisa, but only one - a large, silver key with vibrant purple wings - had one wing crumpled, as though it had been hurriedly crushed into a lock. Grabbing it, Lisa realized that Harry's 'bad feeling' had come true; every key in the room was aiming for her now! Rushing over to the others, they slammed the key into the lock, twisted it, then rushed through the doorway into the next room, slamming the door shut behind them. Behind them, they could hear the sound of what had to be close to a hundred keys embedding themselves in the door.

"What...now...Potter?"

Panting, Harry looked over the room in front of them. "Is this...a graveyard?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia Bones was not having a good day. When she had woken up this morning, her gut had told her to get back in bed, pull the covers over her head, and hide from the world. Her day had gone downhill from there. A former suspect was filing a lawsuit against the Auror Corps for, quote, 'excessive use of unnecessary force during questioning'. The excessive force in question had been the fact that he had stood up to leave before the questioning was done, and one of her Aurors had pushed him back into his chair. She missed the good old days, where suspects weren't quite so quick to complain about every bump, bruise, and injury. When Aurors could actually do their jobs, without being afraid of hurting some wimpy little pureblood prince's delicate feelings.

And of course the tea would choose today of all days to run out. Amelia knew, deep down, that it wasn't actually deliberate, but in her mind, today's lack of tea was done purely to spite her. Probably that hideous toad in the pink cardigan. What was her name again? Dolorous? Dollars? Something like that, anyway, and she and Amelia hated one another. Had done ever since short, fat and toadlike had joined the Ministry. Toady - oh, there was a good name for her! It fit with her job description, too, from what little Amelia knew - had been a junior filing clerk in the DMLE. Amelia had just made senior Auror. Toady thought she could push people around, just because she was from a bastard line of the Selwyn family, a branch so rotted it was a miracle they hadn't died off already.

The memory of putting Toady in a holding cell for the entirety of her first day on the job for, 'attempting to intimidate an officer of the DMLE, sir', had been enormously fun. It even managed to bring a slight smile to her face, even with the lack of tea. Fortunately, Amelia lived and breathed by the Muggle Boy Scout's motto; "Always be prepared." She had her own house-elf pop over with a couple of teabags, and a splash of milk. No sugar, thank you. Susan might like tea with sugar, but Amelia had never been able to stomach sweet things. She was just contemplating whether she could get away with another cup of tea, when a junior aide came bursting into the office, robes ripped in various places, and with glasses knocked askew.

"Madame Bones, you need to come quickly!"

Blinking in surprise, she set aside the document she had been working on, and assessed what little information she had. "Alright. Where and why?"

"The Atrium, ma'am. What looks like every villager in Hogsmeade is there, demanding to speak to you."

This could be serious, Amelia mused. Why on earth would the entire village come at once? Surely one person was enough. They reached the Atrium, and her fears were confirmed - it was a riot. Or nearly one, anyway. Striding forward, she raised her wand above her head, and used a Noisemaker charm to let off a sound like a cannon blast. Silence fell as everyone turned to look at her.

"Now. Calmly, and one at a time, explain why you are here." Realizing her mistake just in time, Amelia pointed to a random villager. "You first."

The man nodded, before launching into his explanation. "I think we're all here for the same reason anyway. About ten minutes ago, there was a huge amount of noise coming from Hogwarts. Woke me right up, so it did. I looked out my window, because it faces the castle, see? And there's fireworks coming off the Astronomy Tower, right? But that's not the oddest thing. There was a giant sign on top of the tower."

"A giant sign? Well, what did it say?"

"Err, something like, 'Student in danger, illegal mail wards round castle and village. Get Aurors.' I'm not too sure on the exact wording. Anyway, I figured it was better safe than sorry, so I apparated over here, quick as you like. These folks had the same idea, it seems."

Amelia wasn't sure what to think. A student in danger was one thing, after all Quidditch was dangerous! But illegal mail wards in so large an area? That smelled to her like someone was trying to cover something up. Tapping her Auror shield, Amelia spoke into it. "All Aurors, take notice. All leave is officially cancelled. All off-duty Aurors are to immediately convene at the gates to Hogwarts. Further instructions will be given upon arrival." Amelia had already lost her brother, her sister-in-law, and her parents to the last war. Susan was the only family she had left, and if someone was going to try and hurt her, they'd soon realize why it took twenty Death Eaters just to take out Edgar!

"Everyone, thank you all for your swift action. Auror forces are on their way to secure Hogwarts as I speak. I myself will be joining them there. You are welcome to wait here, though updates on the situation will be broadcast on the Wizarding Wireless," Amelia noted with satisfaction that the aide she had come with had already moved to make the necessary Floo calls, "Once again, thank you for your swift reactions."

Turning to her left, Amelia marched towards her office. A desk job didn't suit her. It was long past time to break out her dragonhide armour again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione hated feeling so helpless. Harry had escaped, and gone to protect the Philosopher's Stone. By himself. What kind of friend was she, letting him put himself in harm's way like that? She should have said to him not to go. But even as she thought it, she realized it would have been useless to even try. Harry was Harry, and he was brave, optimistic, and stubborn to a fault. Oh, she wanted to wring his neck sometimes, he was so bloody stubborn! He didn't even seem to realize that he was putting himself in danger. Or maybe he did, but he didn't care.

Something about that thought brought her up short. Looking back over her - admittedly few - memories of Harry as a friend, or even just in general, she realized that it wasn't that he didn't realize he was in danger, it was that he didn't care. But why? Why would he think so little of himself that he would consider his own life to be worth so much less than anyone else's? This was dangerous territory, she thought with a start, a sudden epiphany flaring in her mind. A memory, of a psychology textbook she had read in the library one day.

_'Abused children are far more susceptible to subtle, emotional manipulation than others. Having grown up in an unloving environment_,_ children who have been abused will latch on to any kindness shown to them, often developing complexes whereby they need to please the person who has shown them this kindness. Aside from this, victims of child abuse often exhibit self-sacrificing or sometimes recklessly dangerous behaviour. As they go through life, they may begin to self-harm; or in serious cases, can become suicidal. The best treatment in these cases is to ensure that the child is removed from the abusive environment as quickly as possible, and surrounded with people who will offer unconditional love and support to the child. Further information is available...'_

Could that be it? Had Harry been abused as a child? It might explain some of his odder quirks, quite well, actually. Why he would occasionally take an extra roll, or apple from the table at dinner, or why he still sometimes flinched away when she touched his shoulder. He tried to hide it, but she wasn't the most observant witch in Gryffindor for no reason. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. He had admitted that he didn't even know his parent's names before coming to Hogwarts, after all. What loving guardian would deny a child the right to know his parent's names?

She had to help him. There was no two ways about it, Hermione Granger had to do something to distract Dumbledore and Snape. She wasn't foolish enough to believe she coud catch up to Harry in time, but she could ensure that the Headmaster and his lackey couldn't play their games anymore. Twisting her body around, she brought her hands up to her pocket, and managed to withdraw her wand. A muttered Severing Charm later, and she dropped to the floor noisily. The two adults whirled around, only to see her undoing the ropes around the others, who readied their own wands.

"Harry, run! We'll hold them off!" A quick bit of distraction, and the adults thought Harry had only just left. Hermione raised her wand and faced the two who were causing so much grief to everyone. She would never find out, but Hogwarts had, purely by accident, overpowered the counter spell used on Hermione, which meant that her respect for authority would extend to those she actually respected, but no further. Bad news for Albus Dumbledore, who tried to stun the children. Flint and Oliver threw up shields, blocking most of the spell, while Fred and George transfigured Snape's robes into a Victorian-style ballgown, with matching woman's powdered wig.

Ron turned a rather violent shade of green at the sight. "Guys, don't ever do something like that again!"

Fred and George were themselves looking slightly ill, and swiftly agreed, throwing out more spells to try and keep the two teachers off guard. Unfortunately, they had nowhere near the experience of their opponents, and so were swiftly being overrun.

It was an interesting quirk of Fate, they later decided, that Filius Flitwick had been taking an evening stroll around the castle, and just happened to end up round the corner from their impromptu duel. Upon hearing spell fire, the diminuitive Professor rushed to the scene, only to blanch at what he saw. A spell from Snape had broken through Oliver's shield and clipped George round the head, flinging him headfirst into a wall, before he slid to the floor, a halo of blood spreading from his head.

It is a well known fact that goblins consider their children to be sacred, and anyone attempting to harm a goblin child will soon find themselves at the tip of a sword. Now Filius might not have been a full-blooded goblin, and the child in question may not have been his charge, but instinct is a powerful thing. Yelling a family war cry, the half-goblin teacher charged into battle, Snape falling to his spells before he could even turn around. As for Dumbledore, he was now having to defend himself from two directions, and from six angry people who wanted his blood - Flint might have been a Slytherin, but the Weasley twins were his best hope for decent competition in terms of Beaters at Hogwarts. It wasn't a particular surprise that the fight grew loud enough for others to hear, what with the near constant explosions rocking the castle. Pomona Sprout and Septima Vector rushed to the scene of the incident, arriving at the same time as Minerva McGonagall, who drew her wand and stunned Oliver and Marcus before they realized what was going on.

Pomona and Septima weren't about to let her get away with an attack on the children, however, and the elderly witch soon found herself under assault from both of them. Unfortunately, in this time, Dumbledore had managed to stun Ron, Hermione and Fred, leaving Filius fighting on his own, and he could admit that despite holding the International Duelling Championship title, Albus was better than him. Still, he was determined not to go down without a fight. Several complex chains of spells burst from his wand, and he never stayed in one place for too long.

Dumbledore was panicking. It wasn't meant to go like this! That Granger brat continued to defy expectations. Well, he'd have to do something about that. Originally, he would have simply Obliviated her, and refreshed the loyalty charms. Now though, he decided, she would just have to be gotten rid of. Expelling her for something - attacking a teacher, perhaps? She was the one who set Severus's robes on fire - would be a fitting punishment. The only problem was, Flitwick was not letting up for even a minute! Minerva was doing her best, but Pomona was a powerful witch, and Septima was no slouch either. His Deputy Headmistress was slowly being worn down. The only good thing was that he had finally managed to knock out the rest of the students. Now all he had to do was take down his own staff!

Pomona and Septima had been friends since they were children, and it showed. Their duelling was a masterclass in teamwork, as each covered for the others' weaknesses, exhausting Minerva until they finally managed to knock her out. Septima rushed to treat George Weasley - she was the one who learned magical triage spells, after all - while Pomona rushed to help Filius. The two had just started to duel together when a magically augmented voice rang out through the castle.

"AURORS! EVERYONE PLACE ANY WEAPONS ON THE GROUND AND STEP AWAY FROM THEM!"

Taking advantage of Dumbledore's momentary distraction, Filius and Pomona hit him in the chest with the strongest variant of the stunning spell they knew, finally knocking the old man out. Rushing over to the students, they cast as many 'Enervate' spells as were needed to wake the children.

Hermione's eyelids fluttered, before her vision came into focus, the concerned faces of her Charms and Herbology professors hovering over her. Sitting up abruptly, she blurted out in a rush, "Harry's gone after the Stone!" This confused the two teachers, until they realized what stone she was referring to, at which point they leapt up and ran towards the third floor, Professor Vector being left in charge of getting them to the hospital wing. Fortunately, George was the only one with a serious injury. Before she left, Septima conjured ropes around Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore, in the hopes that it would keep them there. Honestly, she doubted it would, but better to have tried and failed, wasn't that what the Muggles said?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TRANSMUTE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A/N: Seven chapters down, and Alchemy only knows how many more to go! Also, this story has nearly reached one hundred reviews. If it can manage that, it will be the first story I have ever written with reviews in triple digits. I don't usually resort to begging, but... come on! Please? Don't make me break out the puppy-dog eyes! I'll do it! I'm crazy like that, you know? Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and please do remember to review. Ciao!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Well, let's break out the balloons, streamers, and party hats! This story is now the first story I have ever written that has made it to over one hundred reviews! Granted, some of those reviews weren't very nice, but it still counts. To answer a question, chaozA, yes, the paragraph breaks are unusual, but they do play a part in the story as a whole. And you will get some hints about them in later chapters - not till at least second year, though. But they will eventually come into play. Also, Dumbledore and Snape are in trouble now, but Dumbledore's been at this for over a hundred years. Don't expect him to go down this easily. The final boss always has multiple forms, don't you know? Let's get on with the story. Remember, disclaimer is in chapter 1.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping forward, Blaise looked at the giant marble figures in front of them. Torches around the room flared to life, throwing harsh, flickering shadows on the walls, and illuminating the center of the room to reveal what they were really seeing. "A chessboard. A giant chessboard, Potter. I guess we have to play our way across?"

Harry blinked, confused. "Why? Couldn't we just walk round the board?"

Neville, Lisa and Blaise all looked at each other, rather bemused by the idea. Lisa shrugged, and started to make her way round the edge of the board, keeping one eye on the enormous, blank faces of the chessmen. In a few moments, she had made it to the other side of the room, and having seen that there wasn't any danger, the other three followed her.

"By the way? Thanks for making me your little guinea pig, boys." Pushing open the door to the next room, she began gagging at the smell wafting through the open doorway. Harry, Neville and Blaise joined her, and immediately staggered backwards.

"Gods above! That smell is awful!"

"That's a troll, Zabini. Of course it smells awful."

"How on earth do you know that there's a troll in there? We haven't even looked into the chamber yet."

"Remember Halloween? When me, Ron and Hermione ended up having to fight a troll to survive? That's how I know it's a troll. Same rancid stench."

Agreeing that it was likely to be a troll, the four covered their noses and mouths with their robes, before advancing into the next room, wands out and ready to curse anything that moved. It turned out that they needn't have bothered, as the troll was lying dead on the floor, blood still gushing from a massive wound on it's head, shards of bone sticking out here and there.

"Um, guys? Maybe we should go back. Whoever did that knows way more magic than us. We need help."

"You're right, Neville. But if we go back now, who's to say we'll find someone who can help before whoever this is steals the Stone?"

Shivering slightly, Neville agreed, forcing his legs to move, however reluctanctly. The unlikely quartet crossed the room and made their way into the next room. No sooner had Neville crossed the threshold than purple flames leapt up, blocking the way back. Blinking, Harry moved towards the other door, only to nearly be incinerated when black flames blocked that passage too.

"Damn. What now?"

"Well, there must be some kind of clue, Zabini. Maybe those potion bottles can help us get through the fire?"

Shifting from one foot to another, Blaise eventually, reluctanctly, ground out, "Good idea, Potter."

Lisa had already picked up the parchment, and was reading it through intently. "If you two are done arguing, I've figured out the puzzle. It's a logic puzzle. Nine bottles, four are poison, three are nettle wine, one gets us back through the purple fire, and the last one gets us forward through the black fire."

"Really? Brilliant. Do you know which is which?"

"Genius takes time, Harry. Give me a minute." Walking up and down in front of the table, occasionally muttering to herself, Lisa jumped into the air when four of the nine bottles started glowing bright blue. Whirling around, she saw Blaise pocket his wand, before throwing the glowing bottles on the ground, where they smashed.

"Zabini! What did you do that for?!"

"Chill, Potter. My mum taught me a spell to identify various kinds of poison from the age of five. She's not called the Black Widow for nothing, you know. Those five bottles that are left are harmless. Well, three of them might make you a bit tipsy, but aside from that they're harmless."

Lisa stepped forward, pulling her wand out of her sleeve. "Stand back, boys. My uncle is a wine connoissuer. He taught me a spell from France that can tell you if what you're buying is really alcohol or not." Casting the spell, three bottles began to glow. Smashing those on the ground left only two to choose from.

"Okay, so which one gets us forward, and which gets us back?"

"No idea. Maybe we should have just tried to solve the puzzle?"

"Um...why don't you use the Reparo spell, then put the empty bottles back where they were to begin with?" The other three stared at Neville for a moment, long enough that he started to doubt his suggestion's usefulness. At least until Blaise said, "Nice one, Longbottom. We'll make a wizard out of you yet."

With the bottles repaired, it didn't take long for them to work out, using a scrap of the parchment to mark poisons, and two scraps to mark the wine, which bottle would take them forward, and which would go back. Crowding round the smallest bottle, they jumped out of their skins when a booming voice reverberated off the walls.

"AURORS! EVERYONE PLACE ANY WEAPONS ON THE GROUND AND STEP AWAY FROM THEM!"

"Whoa. Thank goodness. Alright, you three head back and get the Aurors. I'll go on ahead and try and slow down whoever this is. I'll buy as much time as I can."

"Hold up there, Potter. You think we're going to come all this way, just to back out now? No way. It only takes one of us to alert the Aurors-"

"I can do that." Neville offered.

"-see? So don't think you get to play hero on your own."

"But there's only enough there for one person to drink."

"Maybe so, but the bottles are enchanted. The others don't work anymore, since we broke them and then repaired them, but those two will still refill."

"Oh. Ok then. But only if you're both absolutely sure about this. I don't want to put people in danger."

Lisa smacked her palm against her face. "You aren't putting us in danger. We're choosing to come with you. There's a big difference. Now, let's take the bottles that held nettle wine, pour some of the potion to get back into them, and each of us will take one. Neville, you take the original bottle with you when you go back. Agreed?"

"But...argh. Fine. But why are you both coming with me?"

"Potter, in case it hasn't penetrated that thick dome you call a skull, three wands will delay whoever this is more than one. That and, for whatever ungodly reason, Lisa seems to like you. I don't wanna be slapped later on for abandoning you if you die."

Harry didn't know whether to be insulted, confused, or happy, so finally settled on a mixture of all three.

"Potter, you look constipated. Stop it."

Snapping out of it, and shooting a glare at Blaise, Harry accepted his bottle of return potion from Lisa, before taking the first drink of the potion that would lead him forwards. Just as they had guessed, the bottle refilled itself after a couple of seconds, and so Lisa drank the next dose. Neville drank his return potion, before running back the way they came, Lisa yelling after him to remember to grab a broom to get back through the trapdoor. Finally, Blaise drank his dose of the potion, and the three steeled themselves, before walking through the black fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia was worried. When she had arrived at the grounds, she hadn't been greeted by anyone. Investigating the groundskeeper's hut had revealed that the man had been dosed with a fairly strong sleeping potion, despite there being no evidence of any such potions in the hut itself. She hadn't survived the war against Voldemort without learning that if in doubt, trust the gut, and immediately ordered the team of Aurors with her to spread out in battle formations. Nymphadora Tonks, a rookie on her first real mission with the Corps, was swiftly learning that a bloodhound had nothing on Amelia Bones, as her boss swiftly made her way towards the castle, eyes sweeping the Astronomy Tower, widening marginally when there was no sign of the giant sign that had supposedly brought every villager in Hogsmeade to the Atrium, before returning to sweeping the surrounding area for signs of trouble.

"Madam Bones?"

"Yes?"

"I think there's spellfire around that window. Just by the passage from the Astronomy tower to the Headmaster's office."

Her eyes snapped to attention, scanning every window that fit the given description, and Amelia realised that Tonks had been right. There were flashes of spells, and one that looked rather suspiciously like a Dark Arts spell used to cut people's arms off.

"Aurors, formation delta-seventeen. Assume anyone with a wand pointed at you is hostile." Pointing her wand at her throat, Amelia muttered, "Sonorous."

"AURORS! EVERYONE PLACE ANY WEAPONS ON THE GROUND AND STEP AWAY FROM THEM!"

Tapping her throat again, she muttered, "Quietus." Turning to the rest of her squad, and tapping her badge so the other squads could hear her as well, Amelia began to give orders. "Alright. Team one, you're with me. We'll head towards the area that spellfire was seen in. Team two, you take the teachers lounge. I want them brought in for questioning. Team three, any wayward students, round 'em up and get 'em to the Great Hall. Team four, you're our anyman team. Anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, I want you to investigate. Go!"

Pushing the doors open, the first thing that struck Amelia was the silence. Not a minute ago, there had been explosions and flashes of spellfire, yet now the entire castle was silent as the grave. Shivering slightly at the rather morbid thought, she advanced, the rest of her team advancing with her in the loose diamond formation they were using. Jogging up the flights of stairs, Amelia and her group almost ran into Septima Vector, who was levitating an unconscious and bleeding George Weasley, while two other students and the boy's twin brother were casting spells to try and heal the injury.

"Proudfoot! Medic required."

Auror Dale Proudfoot had trained as a field medic, and was one of the best at his job, which was why Amelia had him on her team. Stepping forward, conjuring a stretcher while gently taking hold of the boy, he began running diagnostic charms. Satisfied that the child would be safe for now, Amelia turned to the Hogwarts Professor - mentally praising Auror Tonks for already having her wand out and pointed at the woman.

"What is going on here?" As any Auror who had worked in the DMLE for more than a week could tell you, not answering Amelia's question when she used _that _tone of voice was liable to get a teapot thrown at you for incompetence. Frosty as the North Pole, Amelia didn't use what Susan called her 'Chief Auror Bones' voice very often, but when she did, someone was going to suffer.

"I don't know exactly what, but Dumbledore and Snape were the ones who attacked Mr Weasley. Pomona and Filius were subduing them, but after they took him down and spoke to Miss Granger, they both rushed off. I was taking the children to the Hospital Wing when you arrived."

"I see. Miss Granger? Where did Professors Flitwick and Sprout go, and why?"

The girl looked relieved, Amelia could tell instantly. "They went to the third floor corridor. Dumbledore's hiding the Philosopher's Stone there, and someone's trying to steal it!"

The Philosopher's Stone? The ancient art of Alchemy had never really appealed to Amelia much, but even she knew about the Stone. Limitless wealth and life, or some such rot. Still, if a dangerous magical artifact was in a school, and someone was trying to steal it, not caring how many students they endangered along the way, Amelia could understand why those same students would try to send for help. Could this be why Susan hadn't contacted her lately?

"Where are Snape and Dumbledore?"

"Just back that way. One flight up from here, and around the corner."

"Right." Turning to her team, Amelia barked orders like the old pro she was. "Tonks, Shacklebolt, you two head up there. Arrest Snape and Dumbledore, and chuck the pair of 'em in a holding cell at the Ministry till I say otherwise. I don't care if Merlin himself orders their release, they don't leave without my say so, got it?" Recieving nods from the pair, she continued. "Once that's done, get your asses back here, and head for the third floor corridor, unless I've already given other orders. Savage, you're with me. Proudfoot, get these kids to the infirmary now. Let's go, people!"

Amelia and Jordan Savage were sprinting through the halls when the message arrived from team four, that two students had been found unconscious outside a corridor on the third floor. Amelia sent back a message telling them to send one Auror with the students for safety, and to then hold position and await backup. Pulling team three off their current task, she redirected them towards the corridor, both groups arriving at the same time, followed only moments later by Sprout and Flitwick. Wasting no time, the group entered the corridor, refreshing the charms on the harp just as Neville Longbottom rose up out of the open trapdoor shakily on an ancient broom that Amelia could swear was the same model as her great-grandfather's.

Hearing that three students were confronting whoever was behind this to buy them some time made the Aurors and the two Professors move all the faster, though Amelia made a mental note to offer all four of them a job after they graduated. If they had this much bravery at the age of eleven, they would only get better with age. Sprout took Neville back to the infirmary after disabling her trap, while the others moved forward. Before leaving, Neville called out to them. "If you don't touch the chessboard, it won't activate!"

Amelia acknowledged his advice, however strange it might have seemed, and pushed forward. Reaching Flitwick's trap, he disabled the charms on the keys, before unlocking the door using an unlocking charm that Amellia had never even heard of before. Making a mental note to ask about the spell later, they pressed on, heeding Neville's advice in the next chamber -and Amelia's opinion of him rose even higher for being able to report the important information without getting bogged down in unnecessary details. Rushing past the dead troll, the group cast Flame-Freezing Charms on themselves and rushed through the fire into the final chamber...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trusting Neville to get the Aurors in time, Harry, Lisa and Blaise rushed into the final chamber, only to stop in their tracks at what they saw. The chamber was enormous, the ceiling stretching far higher than it should have been able to. There was only one door, that being the one they had just entered through. In the center of the room was the Mirror of Erised, and standing in front of the Mirror, was Quirrell.

"You?!"

Quirrell turned to face them, one eyebrow rising in surprise. "Me." The man's voice was undoubtedly different. Cold, cruel and sharp, with no trace of his usual stutter, it sent a shiver down their spines. "I must say, I didn't expect so many of you, Potter."

Blaise decided that it was time to crack jokes. "Yeah, well, we weren't exactly expecting someone this pathetic as our opponent, you know."

"Is that so?" Quirrell's lips quirked upwards in a decidedly terrifying smirk. "Perhaps you should learn to hold your tongue, boy. _Crucio_."

Blaise dropped to the floor, writhing around and screaming in agony. Out of reflex alone, Harry threw a Severing Charm at Quirrell, breaking his concentration. The spell ended, and Blaise was left trembling on the floor, occasinal aftershocks caused him to spasm uncontrollably. Quirrell stared at Harry, eyes narrowed. A burst of intense pain suddenly shot through Harry's scar, causing him to fall to the ground.

Taking advantage of the opening, Quirrell snapped his fingers, and ropes appeared out of nowhere, wrapping themselves around all three of the students. Lisa tried to move, and ended up toppling to the ground. Turning away from them, Quirrell returned his attention to the Mirror.

"How does this blasted thing work? I see myself presenting the Stone to my master, but where is it? Is it inside the Mirror? Should I break it? Help me, Master!"

A sibilant, hissing voice appeared to emanate from the back of Quirrell's head. _"Use the boy..."_

"Potter!" Quirrell summoned the ropes binding Harry to him, before undoing them and pushing him in front of the Mirror. "Look into the Mirror. Tell me what you see!"

_'I have to lie,'_ was Harry's only thought, _'I have to look into the Mirror and lie about what I see.'_ Gazing at his reflection in the Mirror, he saw his parents appear on either side of him once again, smiling proudly at him. His own reflection looked at him, reached into it's - his? - pocket, and pulled out a misshapen, blood-red stone the size of his fist. Winking at himself, the reflection put the Stone - an incomplete Stone, at that - back into his pocket. And somehow, miraculously, Harry felt a weight appear in his own pocket. Somehow, he had obtained the Stone.

"Well? What do you see?!" Oh. Quirrell. He had forgotten about the whole 'mortal peril' thing for a moment.

"Um..." Well, if you were going to lie, stick close to the truth. And try not to think about the fact that you were lying. "I see my parents. They're smiling at me. They're both so proud of me."

"Bah! Get out of the way, useless fool!" Quirrell shoved him harshly, causing him to fall to the ground, the weight of the Stone digging into his side. If he moved now, maybe he could make it to the others and get the three of them out of there before Quirrell noticed? Crawling backwards as quietly as possible, he had barely moved before the same hissing voice spoke again.

_"He lies...He lies..."_

Whirling around in a swirl of purple robes, Quirrell advanced on Harry like a demon from hell. "Tell the truth! What! Do! You! See?!"

_"Let me speak to him...face to face..."_

Paling, Quirrell reached up to his turban. "Master, you are not strong enough!"

_"I have strength enough for this..."_

Quirrell's face spasmed, as though something had caused him pain, before he began to unwind his turban. Layer after layer fell away, until finally he turned around, revealing a face that Harry dimly remembered from a history book Hermione had showed him. Behind him, he heard Lisa's scream, and Blaise's cry of "What the hell is that?!" But Harry only had eyes for one person, the person before him, sending pain shooting through his scar, the face of the man who killed his parents and condemned himm to a loveless childhood with the Dursleys.

"Voldemort."

_"Yes. You see what I become? Mere shadow and vapour, I have form only when I share another's body. But there have always been those who were willing to take me into their minds and bodies. Unicorn blood has sustained this form the past few days. But that will no longer be necessary, not once I have obtained what I am here for. Now, why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"_

"Never!"

_"Bravery. I can admire that, boy. But better to give me the Stone. After all, I could do for you what even Dumbledore cannot. With the Stone in my hands, I could bring your mother and father back to life, boy. All you have to do, is give me the Stone!"_

Struck dumb by Voldemort's offer, Harry unwillingly pulled the Philosopher's Stone out of his pocket. Looking at it, he wondered. Was this hunk of rock really worth everything they were doing? All his life, Harry had dreamed of having his parents by his side, telling him how proud they were when he brought home a good report card, praising him the first time he flew on a broom, coming to all his sports matches like the other kids in his primary school's parents did. All he would have to do was hand over this worthless lump of rock, and his parents could come back, and they could be a family again, just like they had been before...before Voldemort attacked. Harry's train of thought ground abruptly to a halt. Harry's parents had died fighting Voldemort. From what Hagrid had told him, they had been fighting him ever since they graduated from school. Would they really be proud of him for bringing them back, if it meant that the man they gave their lives to stop returned to power again?

"Harry, don't!"

"Don't be an idiot, Potter! He's lying!"

Lisa and Blaise were yelling for him. And Flint. What was it Flint had said? He had lost two uncles and a grandmother to the last war. If Harry gave the Stone to Voldemort, all of those lives would have been thrown away for nothing. All their sacrifices, meaningless. Looking up, locking eyes with the red-eyed demon that stood before him. Harry had one word. "Never."

Voldemort's face contorted into an ugly snarl. "Seize the boy! Get the Stone! KILL HIM!" Quirrell lurched forward, following his master's commands, hands reaching for Harry.

"Diffindo!"

"Lacerus!"

Two beams of light raced across the room, slamming into Quirrell, each cutting him by varying degrees. The severing charm barely scratched the front of his robes, but the more powerful cutting curse slashed his chest open, momentarily distracting him. Harry raced across the room, joining Blaise and Lisa where they stood, now free from the conjured ropes. The three of them turned and ran for the exit, but Quirrell snapped his fingers, and towering flames leapt up to block their way out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia raced into the final chamber, having been momentarily slowed by the flames in the previous room, to see the three students racing for the exit, only to have the path between them blocked by a nearly solid wall of flames. Cursing at the horrific luck they were having, Amelia ordered the Aurors to hit Quirrell with everything they had. She had seen him snap his fingers before the flames appeared, and he had been the only adult in the room, and that was reason enough to be suspicious in her books. Firing her own string of blasting curses, she watched in horror as the bald man somehow wandlessly deflected all their spells away from himself. Great gouges appeared in the walls and ceiling, and some of the rubble smashed into the children, one particularly large chunk of stone from a pillar trapping the girl's legs, and breaking them too, if the scream of pain was anything to go by.

Quirrell advanced on the children again, revealing his back to them, and it took all her willpower for Amelia not to scream. Some of the others weren't so iron-willed, and Dawlish in particular sounded disturbingly like a five year old girl. Sticking out the back of the man's head, was a face Amelia had hoped never to see again, the face that had haunted her nightmares for the last ten years. The face of Lord Voldemort. Recognizing just how dire the situation truly was, Amelia shouted to the others.

"All Aurors, deadly force authorised, I repeat, deadly force authorised! Bring this sick son of a bitch down, and do it NOW!"

Jets of light lanced out of the group's wands, flying over the fire, though some were swallowed by it, but not one ever made it to Quirrell. Again he swept them aside, launching their attacks into the flames around the room, which seemed to grow larger with every spell. Realizing what was going on, Amelia called for them to halt.

"The bastard's using Fiendfyre! Every spell we cast is just making this barrier stronger! Get rid of this fire now, then take him down!"

The group started to cast the most powerful water-based spells they knew, but no matter what they did, it never seemed to be enough. Amelia looked on helplessly as Quirrell continued towards the children as though nothing had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TRANSMUTE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was panicking. Lisa was trapped, and nothing the Aurors did was having any effect. Quirrell reached them, and grabbed onto Harry's wrist, only to jump backwards, shrieking in agony. Looking at the man's hand, Harry saw that it was burned and blistering. Voldemort was still yelling at Quirrell to sieze him, and Quirrell again tried to do so, with the same results as before.

And finally, it snapped into place. Quirrell couldn't touch Harry without suffering terrible pain. Quirrell started yelling about how he couldn't touch Harry, to which Voldemort responded; "THEN KILL HIM, FOOL, AND BE DONE!" Quirrell raised his wand, a green light that Harry remembered from his childhood dreams gathering at the end, and somehow he knew that if that spell was complete, there would be no second chances.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Harry threw himself at Quirrell, his bare hands seeking - and finding - purchase on Quirrell's face. Gripping on and refusing to let go, ignoring the shrieks of pain from Quirrell, and the constant, blinding pain from his scar, Harry clung to Quirrell's face like his life depended on it. His vision started to fade to black, and Quirrell's skin seemed to flake and crumble into dust. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the Aurors finally beating back the flames, and racing towards them. _'I hope Blaise and Lisa are okay...'_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FREEDOM~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A/N: There you go, folks! First year is all wrapped up in a nice big bow for you, and I hope the climax of this chapter did it justice. Next chapter will deal with the aftermath of this one, and also the Dursley problem will be adressed. Now, a question that has no real bearing on the story, but it'll be interesting to hear what you come up with. Firstly, why did I want to reach one hundred reviews in seven chapters? And secondly, what is the purpose of the paragraph breaks in this story? Besides splitting up the paragraphs, of course. Thanks for reading, please review, and Happy Halloween!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to November! First things first, Woef, thanks for the review, and for pointing out my mistake. You're right that Tonks was originally a student, so I went back and retconned that part. Her bit in that chapter is now played by some random OC I made up off the top of my head. Ebru Gunduz Lestrange, firstly, your name is awesome, secondly yes, but wizards were never too big on logic, and the closer to Dumbledore, the less logical the actions. At least in the books, anyway. Next, Renata MM, you'll have your question answered in this chapter. Finally, in honour of Halloween, I've written a quick twoshot story to beat writer's block for this story. It's called 'Hello, Severus', and you can find it on my profile. Anyway, shameless self-advertisement aside, let's get back to this story! P.S. I own nothing. Nothing...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's arms felt like lead weights. All around him, he could see nothing but empty darkness. Squinting his eyes as he tried to see through the gloom, he was blinded for a moment when a sudden burst of light apppeared. Rubbing his eyes to clear away the bright spots that were dancing in his field of vision, he looked for the source of the light. In front of him, he could see a window, open wide, with an inviting, cool summer breeze blowing through it. Reaching out for it, he ended up falling through, and started to fall towards the ground from an impossibly tall wall.

Bolting upright, he blinked in confusion, trying to get his bearings, and get his breathing back under control. A voice called out from somewhere on his left that someone was awake, before an old man appeared in front of him.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

The man frowned slightly, before shaking his head. "No, young man, I am not Albus."

"Oh. I didn't really think you were. Your robes aren't colourful enough."

The man laughed to himself, pulling a chair over and sitting down. Harry took the opportunity to look at him properly. He was old, certainly, but more in the manner of a distinguished scholar than Dumbledore's barmy old man. Perched upon his nose were a pair of old fashioned pince-nex, and his robe was a rather conservative shade of grey, with occasional blood red highlights on certain areas. A symbol Harry recognized from his Alchemy book rested over the man's heart, the Atlantean rune for 'Transmute'. This was a way of allowing alchemists to recognize one another easily, though Harry had heard that the only people who wore the symbol in blood-red like this man, were those who had become Master Alchemists. The man's hair was an odd shade, somewhere between auburn and silver, and his beard was trimmed into a style Harry recognized as a goatee.

"No, Harry. My name is Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas... you're the creator of the Stone! That's why you're wearing those robes!"

Flamel looked a little taken aback by Harry's sudden statement. "Yes, I am indeed. Though I did not expect one so young to recognize the robes of a Master Alchemist?"

He phrased it as a statement, but Harry could hear the curiosity in the man's voice. He didn't get a chance to respond, however, as the doors to the Hospital Wing opened, and the last thing he saw was Ron and Hermione running towards him, before a bushy-haired missile collided with him, a shriek of "Harry!" bursting his eardrums, and the combined hugs of his best friends knocking the wind out of him. He glanced over at Nicholas, and was confused by the rather wistful smile the man had. Madam Pomphrey came bustling over, a tray of potions that looked nasty, and probably tasted nastier, in her hands, only for her eyes to go wide when she saw Ron and Hermione.

"I thought I told you both that Mr Potter was not to be disturbed while he was healing! Look at the poor boy, you're choking him! Let go of him this instant, and show some decorum! This is a place of healing!"

Ron and Hermione gulped at the tone of voice she was using, before detaching themselves from Harry, who gulped in air quite desperately. Madam Pomphrey cast a spell at him, and his breathing eased noticeably. Nicholas sat there chuckling quietly to himself. Harry looked round at the nurse in curiosity, amused when she shrugged at him.

"It's a spell to unblock a blocked windpipe. Used when someone doesn't have anything blocking their windpipe, it can help them to breathe normally, Mr Potter. Very useful when a patient is having difficulty breathing."

"That," grimacing at how odd his voice sounded - a mixture between rusty pipes scraping together and asthmatic wheezing - Harry drank some of the water on his bedside table, then continued, "that sounds like a really useful spell, Madam Pomphrey."

Smiling at him, the matron continued waving her wand, casting various diagnostic charms over him. "Indeed it is. There used to be a Healing elective offered at Hogwarts for those with good marks in Potions and Charms, but it was scrapped about fifty years ago. I've no idea why. Anyway, you seem to be in remarkably good health for someone who nearly died less than a week ago, so I'll let Amelia know that you're able to give a statement."

"A week? Wait! What happened to Blaise and Lisa? And Neville?"

"Mr Longbottom was uninjured when he arrived here, if slightly shaken up. Mr Zabini needed several calming draughts, and a few minor bones had been broken, along with a collection of bumps, bruises, scrapes and cuts. Healed him in a trice. Ms Turpin, however, had had both her legs crushed. The bones had to be regrown, and they are still quite brittle. I've sent her back home for a month, with instructions to visit a healer at St Mungo's in order to regain the use of her legs. However, there was no permanent damage done to any of you. Though how that happened, I've no idea."

Harry blinked, shocked at how badly damaged they had been. "It's my fault, isn't it? I'm the one who got them there, I should have told them to go back, they wouldn't have been hurt if it wasn't for me-"

"That's quite enough of that, Mr Potter." Harry's attention was drawn to the doorway, where Amelia Bones stood, frowning slightly.

"But it is my fault."

"Mr Potter, those two chose, of their own free will, to go with you. Are you trying to say that you alone have the right to decide everything for everyone? That they cannot take any action without your permission?"

"What?! No, but-"

"But nothing, Mr Potter. In any case, your actions are what saved their lives. If you hadn't launched yourself at Quirrell the way you did, he would have no doubt killed all three of you in order to obtain the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry hung his head slightly, and Amelia ground her teeth slightly at his stubbornness. He had saved lives, yet he still blamed himself for someone else's actions? What on earth was going on here? Why did he seem unable to accept that it wasn't his fault?

"The Stone wouldn't have helped him anyway." The finality in the statement surprised Amelia.

"Why do you say that, Mr Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "The Stone wasn't complete. It was just a lump of rock. If it had been complete, it would have been perfectly spherical."

"The young man is quite correct, Madam Bones, though I am at a loss as to how he learned such a thing." Nicholas Flamel confirming the child's statement about an Alchemical artifact was what convinced Amelia he was telling the truth.

"I see. And how did you learn this?"

"A book I read."

Gods above, she hated it when people got evasive. "And the name of that book?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to have a name. It's about Alchemy, though. I've only read a few chapters of it so far."

Well, that was odd. Any modern textbook or published folio of work would have a title, that rule had been introduced in 1642. Which meant that this book was ancient. "May I see the book in question?"

"It's in my bag, in the tower."

Assuming that to be a positive answer, Amelia turned to the Granger girl and asked her to fecth the bag. In the meantime, she had questions.

"Now then, Mr Potter. We have, for the time being, sufficiently covered the incident concerning the Philosopher's Stone. Perhaps we can talk about why a sign was created that was seen by people in Hogsmeade?"

"Well, during the first Quidditch match of the season, my broom started acting really oddly. It tried to throw me off, and every time someone got near to it, it flew away from them. I couldn't control it. Hermione thought that Snape was cursing the broom, since he was staring at it and muttering, so she set his robes on fire to break his concentration. I guess it was really Quirrell though."

"Why could it not have been Snape?"

"Dumbledore said it was because he owed my father a life debt, and when he died, the debt transferred to me."

Amelia could barely speak, she was so mad. "That, Mr Potter, is most emphatically not how life debts work. They are not I.O.U's, that can be swapped amongst people at will. If Mr Snape did owe your father a life debt upon your father's demise, then he would have been expected to repay the debt by some form of monetary recompense, agreed between himself and your family's head. In this case, he would not have been able to pay back the debt until you come of age. What Dumbledore has told you is a lie, simple as that."

"So Snape could have been the one trying to kill me after all?" Amelia could hear the anger in the child's voice, and could see the tray of potions on the bedside table rattling slightly. "And Dumbledore knew that, but still tried to cover for him?"

"Unfortunately, yes. If anything, Mr Snape has a motive for the attack. If your family line dies out before the debt is repaid, the debt is instantly dissolved."

"If the line dies out? Then, if I..."

"Indeed. Were you to die, Severus Snape would no longer owe anything. However, since we can prove that, that is one more charge that we can bring against Albus."

"Charge? Bring against? What do you mean?"

"Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape were both arrested. They are currently being held in a secure Ministry holding cell, until such time as you awoke, in order to obtain your testimony against them."

"They were arrested? Why?"

"Besides the highly illegal mail wards, the reckless endangerment of innocent lives, and the attempt to kidnap children with intent to forcibly alter their memories? Try the fact that Severus Snape hit one George Weasley with a rather overpowered banishing charm, causing him to crack his skull open against a wall, causing partial memory loss. And the magical assault on five other students and three members of staff, all of whom have stated that they will be testifying at trial. I know for a fact that the Weasley family are suing Snape for all he's got."

Hermione ran back into the room, out of breath and panting, but with Harry's bag clutched in her arms. "I've...got...it...Madam Bones."

Taking the bag from the girl and conjuring a seat for her - which she collapsed into gratefully - Amelia took the book in question out of the bag and examined it. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary, leather-bound book. Looking inside, there was no author's name listed, no preface. And when she flipped through the book, Amelia was even more confused.

"Mr Potter. Care to explain why this book is blank?"

Nicholas chimed in at this point. "What do you mean, ma'am? I can see the writing on the pages just fine."

Confused, Amelia turned to the other member of the Ministry - though that was stretching the truth slightly - and asked their opinion.

The person steppped forward, navy-blue robes covering them, with a mask on their face. When they spoke, no one could tell whether they were male or female. "I can't see any writing either. Perhaps only alchemists can read the book?"

"No, I'm afraid that isn't possible. Harry, lad, had you ever used Alchemy before you read this book?"

"No, Mr Flamel. I didn't even know what Alchemy was until Hermione mentioned you were an alchemist."

The Unspeakable frowned - or at least, they assumed he did. "Interesting. Perhaps something to do with a bloodline, then? Maybe only relatives of a certain family could read the book, in order to preserve family secrets."

"If that is true, Croaker, then Harry and Nicholas are related in some way. But how?"

Harry felt odd. He actually might have a living relative after all? If that was the case, maybe he could live with Nicholas, and not have to go back to the Dursleys again. The same happy bubble that had appeared the night Hagrid told him he was a wizard started to reappear.

"Interesting. I had no idea that Perenelle and I had any living relatives. I suppose there was bound to be at least a few scattered about, but still. Ah well, this is a happpy circumstance, young Harry. Perhaps we could correspond by post?"

The bubble burst. Of course, there was no reason for them to take him in, everyone assumed the Dursleys were nice people who pampered him, that he lived a life of luxury. But if he told them, what then? Would they believe him? If they did, what would happen? Maybe Nicholas and Perenelle didn't want a child running about their house, making mess and breaking things. Maybe he would be shipped off to some other magical family. Harry didn't think living with the Weasleys would be a bad thing, but what if they made him go live with someone like Malfoy? In his sudden shock, he failed to notice himself start to hyperventilate.

Nicholas was confused. Harry had been given to a nice family to be raised, he was sure. So why had the child looked so hopeful when he found out they were related? Better question, why had his offer to send letters to him caused the child to lapse into shock. When Harry started hyperventilating, Nicholas moved, casting a powerful calming spell over him, which had the unforeseen side effect of knocking the poor boy out. The adults all shared a glance. What could possibly have caused such a reaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia's day was going downhill. Again. Every time she thought she would catch a break, life seemed to throw another bloody curve ball at her.

"So what you're telling me, Graves, is that Dumbledore, and possibly even Snape, are going to walk out of here with, at most, a slap on the wrist?"

Algernon Graves was a well respected solicitor. If by 'respected', one meant 'feared'. Absolutely ruthless, he did have morals, and wouldn't falsify evidence. The man believed in seeing the law done. Unfortunately, in this case, the law was fighting against them. "I'm sorry, Amelia, I really am. But almost none of Dumbledore's actions were illegal. He'll be fined for the mail wards, certainly, and you may even get the child endangerment charges to stick. But aside from that, and the lie about a life debt, which isn't illegal, just unscrupulous, he hasn't actually done anything illegal."

"Fine. What about Snape, though? You can't honestly expect him to get out of this?"

"Honestly, no, I don't. But Dumbledore is a tricky bastard, Amelia. He'll probably make some argument along the lines of Snape having a flashback to the war, or some such rot."

"And if I point out that Snape was a Death Eater during the war?"

"He'll rehash his argument that Snape was a spy for him during the war. That he had to do a lot of unpleasant things to maintain his cover."

"The slimy bastard threw a child into a wall! The boy can't remember his own name right now!"

"I'm well aware of that, and so is the public. Support for Snape right now is somewhere between the good old 'hang, draw, and quarter technique', and the Prometheus treatment."

"Prometheus treatment?"

"Chain him to a boulder and let an eagle eat his liver."

"Oh. Well then how in Merlin's name is he going to get out of it?"

"Like I said, Amelia, I don't actually think he will. But I do think we should prepare for the eventuality that he does get away with it. We can play the sympathy card, but so can Albus. Just...hope for the best, plan for the worst."

"Fine. But if Snape gets off, Susan is being home-schooled. I refuse to let the last member of my family anywhere near that miserable, sorry sack of-"

"That's fine," Algernon raised his voice slightly, the first time he had done so in the entire conversation, "just so long as you promise to keep a level head in the courtroom. If you lose your cool there, Albus will use it against us."

"Fine. Fine. Has he got a solicitor yet?"

"He's excercising his right to self-representation. Snape asked for Albus to represent him. Albus agreed."

"Damn it. The man has a plan already."

"Yes, he does. Is Potter awake yet?"

"He woke up earlier, but something - not a clue what it was - sent him into shock. He's unconscious again."

Algernon raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly standard, is it? To wake up then faint."

"No. It wasn't long after Nicholas Flamel revealed that they might be related. But he seemed happy at that. It was when Nicholas offered to keep in touch via post that he went into shock."

"Maybe he's afraid of owls?"

"No, he has a pet snowy owl, remember? His friend, Miss Hermione Granger, seems to think that he was abused, but she has no solid evidence for it."

"You think he was happy at the thought of escaping his relatives, but when he realized that wouldn't happen, he went into shock?"

"Exactly. I'm going to head over and speak to his relatives personally in a little while. It's standard procedure to notify the child's guardians if they are injured, so I'm only doing my job."

"And if it helps you get a better handle on the situation..."

"Well, Algernon, that's just a bonus."

The lawyer left Amelia's office chuckling to himself. People always seemed to forgot that although Edgar and his wife had been Hufflepuffs, Amelia had been sorted into Slytherin, and was one of the few that actually acted like one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Privet Drive was a quiet little suburb, Amelia decided. Dressed rather conservatively - she was in the Muggle world, after all, and she was one of the few purebloods who knew how to blend in properly - she made her way down the street from the corner of Magnolia Crescent, looking at the row of houses around her. They all seemed to look exactly alike, and she pondered over whether a resident had ever entered the wrong house by mistake. Stopping in front of number four, she took a quick, assessing glance over the property. Flowerbeds could do with a good de-weeding, she noted, the paint on the front door was peeling slightly, and faded, and the car in the driveway could do with a scrub. Stepping onto the doorstep, she knocked twice and waited.

She wasn't waiting long, as a woman pulled open the door, looking her up and down as she did so. Amelia responded in kind, looking for any dangers that might be present. The woman was rather unfortunate in the way of looks, she mused. Her lips were pinched into a rather nasty expression, her eyes were the sort that Amellia had seen on the gossips in Diagon Alley, twittering back and forth over Rita Skeeter's latest tabloid piece, and her neck seemed to have elongated to unnatural lengths.

"Petunia Dursley?"

The woman's eyes took on a suspicious look to them. "Yes? Who are you, and how do you know my name?"

"My name is Amelia Bones. May I come in?"

"Absolutely not. I don't allow strangers who show up on my doorstep in without a good reason."

"Ma'am, I am here to discuss your nephew."

"What nephew? I don't have one."

She was good. Amelia almost believed she had the wrong house for a moment. But she hadn't made it to the top of the DMLE by not being able to tell when someone was lying. "Your nephew, ma'am? One Harry James Potter, I believe?"

That got a reaction. The woman paled, a slight tinge of green appeared on her face. "I don't know who you are, and quite frankly I don't care. But I don't have a nephew, and you are mistaken."

"This is Number Four, Privet Drive? Home to Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and the summertime residence of Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley?"

Mentioning her son's name got an even stronger reaction. Her face rapidly took on a deathly shade of pale grey, and a hint of fear appeared in the woman's eyes. "Where is Dudley? What have you freaks done to my son?!"

Noticing that they were attracting attention from some of the neighbours, Amelia tried once more to convince the woman to take her inside. Apparently, the fear she felt for her son was enough to make Petunia cooperate, and Amelia was soon sitting in the Dursley's front room.

"Alright, you're in the house, now where is my son?!"

"Mrs Dursley, please calm down. Your son is fine, as far as I am aware." That seemed to have done more harm than good, as Petunia leapt from her seat and rushed towards Amelia. Drawing her wand, a quick Petrificus Totalus soon had the woman back in her chair.

"Mrs Dursley, I have not harmed your son. Nor has anyone else, to the best of my knowledge. I would assume that at this time of day, he would be in school. Aside from that, I don't know where he is."

Releasing her from the body-bind curse, Amelia was relieved when Harry's aunt didn't try to attack her again. Indeed, the other woman seemed slightly relieved at the news that her son was not in danger.

"Now, perhaps we can start again. My name is Amelia Bones. I am the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"I don't care who you are. The boy isn't our problem until he comes home for the summer. You want to speak to that Dumbledore man. He's in charge during school."

'Interesting,' Amelia mused, 'that she would know who Dumbledore is. Is she communicating with him somehow?'

"I'm afraid that Mr Dumbledore is...indisposed, at the moment. Thus, we decided to speak with you instead, Mrs Dursley."

"I don't care. How many times do I need to tell you this? I don't care what trouble the brat got himself into this time. It's bad enough that he's constantly spreading nasty rumours about my Dudley to the neighbours, and the school. If he's in trouble with the rest of you fr-magicals, let him deal with it on his own."

"I see. You do realize that your statement is indicative of neglect towards a child in your care?"

Petunia finally exploded. "I don't care! I never wanted to take the misbegotten little bastard under my roof in the first place! If it weren't for the money that Dumbledore paid us, the brat would have been off to the orphanage, first chance we bloody got!"

Amelia sat calmly, listening as the woman in front of her dug her own grave. Or increased her prison sentence, in this case. Once the woman finally stopped shouting and screaming, she stood up, towering over Lily Potter's sister, the monocle she always wore managing to seem intimidating, where it would seem ridiculous on anyone else.

"Very well. Since you do not seem to care what happens to your nephew, I will leave. However, before I go, there are a few things I wish to inform you of. Firstly, some of the vitriol that spewed from your mouth in that little rant is indicative of child neglect in the best case scenario, if not outright abuse. Secondly, your nephew is currently in a coma, having just fought the parasitic wraith of Lord Voldemort. Thirdly, Albus Dumbledore is being brought up on charges of illegally tampering with mail, child endangerment, and attempted murder." The last one wasn't technically true, it was only an assault charge, but Amelia considered any wand to be a deadly weapon, and was going to do her damnedest to make sure everyone else saw that too.

Petunia fell onto the couch, mouth gaping. Amelia touched her wand to her badge, summoning Tonks and Shacklebolt, the only two Aurors who were still fit for active service after the incident that had occured when Harry had passed out.

"Aurors Tonks and Shacklebolt, I want you to take Mr and Mrs Dursley into custody. Then search this house from top to bottom. Find everything. I don't care how insignificant, find it. If I find out either of you missed a damn thing, I'll put you both on graveyard shift filing paperwork till you're eighty, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am!"

Jerking her head towards the doorway, Amelia moved towards Petunia, taking out a pair of handcuffs as she went. "Get to it then. I'll take Mrs Dursley in just now. Tonks, you start searching the house. Shacklebolt, get Vernon Dursley into cuffs, and into a holding cell."

Cuffing the woman, Amelia didn't bother waiting for an acknowledgement before Apparating back to the Ministry and beginning the paperwork, sending a message to Algernon as she did so. Jiffy, her personal house elf, popped into the office, leaving a cup of freshly brewed tea on her desk, before popping back home. Amelia smiled to herself as she sat down. She knew there was a reason she liked house elves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: More of a filler chapter here, really. Just the aftermath of chapter eight, and a bit of foreshadowing. A very tiny hint, though. Sup4Rii, here's the next chapter. Incidentally, good guesses, both right. Seven is the most powerful number in magic - more about that later in the story - and there are exactly one hundred equations in a complete transmutation circle. Also, the paragraph breaks do have something to do with Harry's alchemy, but I'm not telling you what that is just yet. Salazar won't factor in to the story until near the end of second year, so he won't be around for a while yet. But there is a hint of his presence somewhere in this chapter. Again, not saying where! Also, I don't own Algernon Graves. Another writer on this site created him, but I can't remember who, so I hope they don't mind me borrowing him! Jiffy, however, I do own. I thought it was an appropriate name for a house elf. As always, please review the story, and thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Welcome to chapter ten, my friends! Time to get to Dumbledore's trial, and find out what happened to the Dursleys. Also, does anyone think that Dolores Umbridge is similar to Margaret Blaine, from the Christopher Ecclestone Doctor Who? Disclaimer is in chapter one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia was reviewing various statements taken by her Aurors. Having heard from multiple witnesses about the actions of one of her active Aurors, she was left with no choice. A knock on her door rang out through the silence of her office, and she sighed.

"Enter."

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody opened the door, his magical prosthetic eye scanning the entire room - as if he hadn't already done that using the filter that allowed him to see through physical objects, Amelia thought to herself. "So, why am I here, Amelia?"

"I think we both know why you're here, Alastor. Care to explain why you decided to moonlight as a private investigator?"

Moody's real eye narrowed slightly. "I don't see how it's any business of yours, Amelia? All actions were undertaken while I was off-duty, so I haven't done anything wrong as far as I can see."

"And that is exactly the problem, Alastor. You don't see that failing to report an incident of attempted murder is worth reporting to the department. Why? Because your old war buddy Albus didn't want other people sticking their beaks in? Or is there a more sinister reason?"

"Albus asked me to look into a possible threat against one of the students. I didn't have enough information to warrant calling in the rest of the department."

"That excuse might wash in your mind, Alastor. It might even wash in Fudge's mind. But it sure as hell isn't going to wash with me. If there was a threat towards any student, any student at all, the Aurors should have been called in to investigate immediately. And even if it was only a threat, once you arrived, surely the students informed you of the attempt on Mr Potter's life? At that point, you should have immediately informed the Head Auror, if not the Director of the DMLE. That sort of breach of protocol is not permissible. I will not have members of my department taking orders from people outside of the chain of command. Albus Dumbledore has no authority in this department, except to issue Wizengamot edicts. And as no such edict was issued, your actions are not endorsed by the department."

Amelia sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration. "I cannot have any member of the department involved in this sort of scandal, Alastor. More importantly, I cannot have any member of the Auror Corps ignoring crimes, and the attempted murder of Mr Potter is a crime. I'm going to give you until tomorrow, Alastor, because I respect you, and because of the years of service you've given the Corps. Clear out your desk and give your notice within the next twenty-four hours, or be fired in disgrace. Those are your only options. I'm sorry that it had to come to this, Alastor."

Moody nodded, rising from his chair, his posture that of a man accepting defeat. "I understand, Amelia. Thank you for at least giving me the opportunity to keep a little dignity. Goodbye."

As the door closed behind one of the best Aurors Amelia had ever worked with, she dropped her head onto the desk with a resounding thunk, wondering just how many more lives were going to be ruined by Albus Dumbledore before the week was out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molly Weasley was many things - a mother, a wife, an avid believer that Albus Dumbledore was a good man - but of all those things, she valued being a mother more than any other. Which was why she was currently sitting next to her George's bed in St Mungo's, stroking his hair as he slept, and cursing the name Dumbledore for all she was worth. When the Aurors first arrived at the Burrow to tell her that Albus Dumbledore was being arrested, and that she would need to give evidence at the trial, she was ready to unleash a Howler-worthy shouting match on them. Then they had told her the reason she was being called upon as a witness, and the focus of her anger changed.

Writing down a note for Ginny to explain where she was going - Ginny had gone over to Luna's house for the day, so she knew her daughter would be fine in Xeno's hands - she went with one of the Aurors - Savage, she thought his name was - who took her to the hospital to see her baby. And it had broken her heart, when she had walked into the room, and said hello to her own son, only for him to ask who she was. One of the Healers in the room had taken her aside and explained that because of the head injury George had sustained, his memory was affected, and only time would tell whether or not it would be permanent. Arthur arrived at that point, and Healer Cadwallader had once again gone over the situation with him, before leaving them to talk.

Molly had been all for rushing into the Ministry, blasting her way into Snape's cell, and wringing the greasy man's neck for what he had done, but Arthur had quickly talked her out of that plan. Instead, Arthur had gone to call in a favour owed to him by an old friend from Hogwarts, one Algernon Graves, calling a civil lawsuit against Snape - and though he hadn't told his wife this fact, against Dumbledore, too - and Molly had taken up a vigil beside her son, praying to whatever deities existed that her son would remember her someday soon.

"Mummy?"

Molly's head snapped upwards so fast she thought it might fall off for a moment, finally registering her daughter, along with Xeno Lovegood and his daughter, standing in the doorway. She was on her feet in an instant, scooping her little princess into her arms in what everyone referred to jokingly as a 'Weasley hug'. Ginny started to sob, and that finally opened the floodgates for Molly, who began to cry her own heart out in fear for her son, neither even noticing when Xeno steered Luna out of the room and closed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly clawed his way back into consciousness once again. Dimly, he registered a voice saying that someone -him?- was waking up, followed by the sound of a fire flaring up. A hand rested on his back, and a glass was pressed to his lips. Finally realizing how thirsty he was, Harry began to gulp down the water noisily, his eyes finally open completely. He noticed Amelia Bones walk into the room, and saw Hermione coming back over from the fireplace - he would need to ask what that was all about at some point, he decided.

"Mr Potter, are you awake now?"

"Yes." It was then that Harry realized something was wrong. He could hear himself answering, but he wasn't in control of his body. He began to panic, trying to struggle, but nothing he did had any effect.

"Please calm down, Harry. It's a simple truth potion, mixed together with a temporary paralysis potion. Commonly used when questioning unwilling criminals, but we adapted it for this case. Now, can you tell me how the Dursleys have treated you over the years?"

Trying desperately to fight off the effects of the potion, Harry became even more terrified when he discovered that his mind wasn't responding. "They treated me like a slave."

Amelia growled slightly. Even under a truth potion, getting a straight answer from the child in front of her was like pulling teeth from a Hippogryph. "Harry, please don't fight the potion. We only want to help you. Now, can you tell me where you sleep, or have slept, in the Dursley household?"

"The smallest bedroom," Harry stopped, still trying to avoid saying any more than he already had, "and the cupboard under the stairs."

Amelia grimaced. Apparently Tonks had been right when she claimed that she had found what looked like a bedroom in that cupboard. Making a mental note to offer to complete the young rookie's training herself, since Mad-Eye was now gone, she continued her questioning. "What sort of chores were you expected to do?"

"Wash the car, mow the lawn, weed the flowerbeds, paint the door, paint the fence, varnish the shed, clean the windows, clean the bedrooms, bathrooms, and kitchen, do the laundry, cook the food, and anything else my uncle came up with."

Now they were getting somewhere. Amelia checked to make sure the Auror-grade DictaQuill she had set up when she arrived had recorded everything he said - it had - before continuing. "How much food were you given, on average?"

"It depended on whether my chores were done, and whether my uncle was in a good mood or not. If they were all done, and Vernon was happy, I got to eat half the size of meal my aunt ate. Otherwise, I had to make do with the table scraps."

Amelia ground her teeth together. She had seen the amount of food his aunt considered a normal meal. Half of that again would barely be enough to support the laziest, least active child on the planet, much less a child doing all those chores near constantly. Making a mental check against the term 'witholding food' on her mental checklist, Amelia continued on. "Did your relatives ever physically strike you?"

Now, he was really fighting the potion, she could see. Clearly, he didn't want the information to be revealed, but she couldn't leave a child in those conditions. A little discomfort now in exchange for a happier life was worth it, she was sure. Amelia only hoped young Harry felt the same.

"My aunt never hit me. My uncle only really hit me once or twice, and it was only a slap on the cheek. Dudley and his friends beat me up all the time, though. They called it Harry Hunting."

Amelia promised herself that at least one Dursley would never see the light of day again. "Describe Harry Hunting."

Harry remained silent, and Amelia ground her teeth in frustration once again. The clever little bugger had discovered the loophole in the truth potions; unless the person under one was asked a direct question, the potion would not compell them to answer. "Alright, then. What is Harry Hunting?"

"Dudley and about four or five others woould chase me until I couldn't run anymore. Then one of them - usually Piers - would hold my arms behind my back while the rest punched me in the stomach."

That was consistent with Poppy Pomphrey's report of severe abdominal bruising, as though he had been punched repeatedly, she thought to herself. Checking her notes one last time, Amelia deactivated the quill, and gave Harry the antidote to the truth serum. As soon as the effects wore off, the boy glared at her, and she couldn't help thinking that in a few more years, that look would be truly intimidating, if he kept at it.

"What the hell did you do that for?!"

"Language, Mr Potter. And I did that to confirm information I already had," alright, she was stretching the truth ever so slightly when she said that, but even so, "and incidentally, I had every legal right to do so, as you are currently a ward of Mr Flamel, and he had already given permission for the potions in question to be administered."

"What? Ward? And what do you mean, you already knew about...that stuff?"

"Petunia and Vernon Dursley were arrested yesterday afternoon, on suspicion of abuse and neglect of a child in their care. Since they were unable to be considered your guardians at the time, custody of yourself was handed to the closest family member we could reach. That just so happened to be Mr Nicholas Flamel. I asked his permission to question you under the influence of a mild truth potion in order to determine the extent of the abuse you had suffered, and he agreed that it was best to get it out of the way quickly."

The boy's hands were clenched into fists, she noticed. "It doesn't matter."

"Why do you say that, Mr Potter?"

"I went to the police, once. Told them about the abuse the Dursleys put me through. Two days later, no one except me and the Dursleys remembered a thing about it. And how did you know about the cupboard, anyway?"

Interesting. So someone had somehow erased all knowledge of that incident from people's minds? That reeked of illegal Obliviations, and if she found Albus Dumbledore's sticky fingers anywhere near it, heads were going to roll. Starting with the man in question's head. "When I went to your family's residence to inform them of your injuries, your aunt was rather...belligerent. She seemed unwilling to admit to ever having known you, and when I revealed who I was to her, she informed me that if you had gotten yourself into some kind of legal troubles, you could sort it out yourself. Certain other comments she made," no need to tell him about the money from Dumbledore, "indicated at least a neglectful household, so I decided to bring the pair in for questioning. After that, two of my Aurors swept the house for any evidence of abuse. One of them noticed what appeared to be some form of makeshift bedroom in cupboard. Given your relative size when compared to your uncle and cousin, I felt it rather likely that the cupboard had been your bedroom at some point."

"Oh." A sudden flash of understanding appeared in his eyes. "Hey, wait a minute! You didn't actually know about it at all, did you?"

Smacking herself mentally, Amelia admitted that she hadn't actually known any facts about his treatment. "However, Mr Potter, I would remind you that this was done with the full permission of your current legal guardian."

Shrinking in on himself slightly, Harry deflated visibly. "Oh. So, what's going to happen to me now?"

"That depends. Nicholas has indicated that if there are no other families with a closer blood connection, then he would be willing to take you in as his ward. However, there are also cousins on your father's side of the family who might be available. One of my Aurors is, in fact, the daughter of your father's second cousin, I believe."

"Oh. Ok, then, so where do I live while that's going on? And do I get a say in this?"

"Certainly, your opinion will be taken into account during the process, but you may not reject any family simply because you do not like them. Unfortunately, news of this has already spread to the newspapers, and several families of varying allegiances have stepped forward to offer to adopt you. Chief among them being Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa, who are claiming a blood connection through the Black family."

"Huh?"

"Narcissa Malfoy was originally Narcissa Black, who was a cousin of your father's through his mother. Thus, right now, they have the strongest familial connection to you, and are likely to be awarded custody unless you can provide some very good reason not to do so. I can contact Andromeda Tonks, another cousin of your father's, and Narcissa's sister. She has an equal blood tie, however, unlike the Malfoys, her family is not rich, and she was disinherited from the Blacks," seeing the look of confusion, Amelia elaborated, "kicked out, Harry. The Malfoy family can afford the best lawyers, and are likely to be virtually unopposed. I thought I should warn you. They will not do anything to you, however. They wouldn't dare, considering that the whole of magical Britain is likely to be watching them once you go to live with them."

"But Malfoy and I hate each other!"

"And you may make that argument in court, but Lucius is a consummate politician, and will no doubt wave the whole feud away by saying that you got off on the wrong foot, and coming to live with them would help heal the rift between you."

"But I don't want the rift healed, I don't want anything to do with the Malfoys!"

Nicholas stood up. "Amelia, if blood is the concern, mine is as pure as any. Purer than Malfoy's, and I lived through the beginning of most of the traditions he worships these days. Half of them, we called fads, laughing at the idea that they would ever catch on. If money is the problem, I have a source of unlimited wealth. I can simply transmute any gold needed to counter Malfoy's actions. You and I both know that Lucius Malfoy being placed under the Imperius curse is nonsense, and I have not lived nearly a thousand years simply to see a member of my family handed over to a servant of the man who tried to kill that same family member! Call whatever lawyers you need to, but make it known that Nicholas Flamel is willing to adopt Harry Potter. That is, assuming that is alright with you, Harry?"

"Are you kidding? Live with you, leave the Dursleys, and not have to live with Malfoy? Sounds too good to be true!"

"Well, I can assure you that for once, it is true. It's high time you had some good news in your life, so let's hope this is the start of a new chapter in your life, lad."

Amelia smiled at the simple, honest joy on Harry's face at the prospect of never having to live with the monsters that pretended to be his relatives ever again. Deciding that her second bit of news could wait, after all there was no reason to spoil what was rapidly becoming a celebration, as both of Harry's friends dogpiled him in happiness, she quietly slipped out the door, returning Nicholas' nod as she did so. Nothing got by that old alchemist, apparently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At a nondescript cafe in the heart of Muggle London, two people sat down at a booth next to the window, one still with their hood up on the odd jacket they wore. Leaning across the table, the hooded figure picked up the sugar and added two spoonfuls to their tea.

"Well, Croaker? Are you going to explain why we are here, or not?"

"Patience, Amy."

"Don't call me 'Amy'. Bad things happen to people who call me that."

"You're rather cute when you try to threaten me, you know? You can never be sure of who might be listening."

"We both know you've swept the entire city block five times since we got within a hundred metres of this place. Get to the point."

"Fine. The wraith was indeed the disembodied soul of Lord Voldemort, as you suspected. Thanks to your spells, a piece of it broke off during the battle just after the Potter boy lost consciousness. Since I was already there, I managed to entrap the fragment inside an old quill I had in my pocket for such occasions."

"Only you, Croaker, would carry an old quill just in case you meet the disembodied spirit of the most feared British Dark Lord in a century, and managed to chip a piece off."

"What can I say. Be prepared, Amelia. Incidentally, good, creative use of exorcism spells. I'm impressed."

"Still not interested, Croaker."

"Oh well. One day you'll join the Department, Amelia. One day."

"And it'll be a cold day in hell, that day. What else?"

"The rest of the soul managed to flee. I've been looking into ways of tracking it, along with how he managed to survive the first time round. Popular theory in the Circle is a Horcrux, possibly multiple Horcruxi, given how unstable his soul seems to be."

"Okay. Putting aside the fact that I want to vomit right now, any other theories?"

"There's a distinct possibility that the scar that the Potter boy has is somehow connected to Voldemort. Right now, we aren't certain whether it is a Horcrux, or something else."

Both people at the table fell silent as the waitress brought their meals. Thanking her, they dug in.

"So what do you intend to do about it?"

"Amelia, let's be honest. We both know that Horcruxi don't work. If they did, we would have hundreds of ancient Egyptian wizards and witches running around. Do you know how many Horcruxi were found in Gringotts' latest trip to Egypt?"

"Twenty?"

"Try two thousand. And that's two thousand separate people, not in total. That means there should, by all rights, be two thousand immortal Egyptians running around somewhere. But there isn't. Only thing we can figure is that Horcruxi don't work. They keep the fragment of soul inside them from moving on, but the rest of the soul isn't similarly tethered."

"Meaning that when the body dies, only that fragment of soul is left behind. The rest moves on, correct?"

"That's right. Which is why we're confused. By all rights, Voldemort only made Horcruxi. He shouldn't be here. Which is why we think Potter's scar might be something else. A different kind of anchor, perhaps."

"What about the Dark Mark? Could that have some connection?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but in this case, nothing seems certain. I'll bring the idea to their attention."

"If you need a test subject, I just happen to have a child-abusing scumbag with an ugly tattoo on his left forearm who isn't going anywhere anytime soon that I can offer."

"Thanks, Amy. I might take you up on that offer." Croaker dropped a few coins on the table in front of him, before leaving the cafe. Behind him, Amelia Bones realized what he had said, and gave chase, yelling at him all the way to the Ministry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TRANSMUTE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_  
** Boy-Who-Lived Abused by Muggles!**_

** Dumbledore complicit in abuse of Britain's Saviour?**

_You read that right, ladies and gentlemen. In a stunning series of revelations, it has become apparent that Harry James Potter, whose story we are all well acquainted with, was abused by the very people he was placed with for protection. In the November session of the Wizengamot, in 1981, Albus Dumbledore declared that in the interests of safety, Harry Potter had been placed with his maternal aunt, and blood wards had been erected over the property. These wards, claimed the Chief Warlock, would keep anyone intending to do harm to young Harry away from the property. But it seems that they do not work quite as intended. For despite having kept young Harry safe from external threats, they did nothing to protect him from the savage treatment he endured at the hands of his Muggle aunt and uncle._

When questioned about the reason they had taken young Harry in, despite so clearly not wishing him there, Mrs Petunia Dursley is quoted as having said that "We never wanted the boy here, and if it weren't for the money Dumbledore gave us, he would have been off to the orphanage first chance we got!" Why was Albus Dumbledore paying the Dursley family money, when it is well established that the Muggle government already provided monetary assisstance to raise the young orphan? Since hearing the news, multiple families have already stepped up and offered to open their homes to the young hero, and leading the pack is Lord Lucius Malfoy, of Wiltshire, who is quoted as saying, "It is quite clear to me that a travesty of justice has occured here. Mr Potter should clearly never have been left in the hands of Muggles, since it is quite obvious that they are incapable of raising a magical child. I have to ask, why do we as a society focus on protecting such feral beasts, when in reality we should be protecting our children from them? Mr Potter will always be welcome in Malfoy Manor, and I do hope that he is happy, wherever he may go from here."

Also putting his name into the running is Master Alchemist, and all around legend, Mr Nicholas Flamel, noted for his creation of a Philosopher's Stone. Mr Flamel has claimed custody of Mr Potter based on the marriage of his great-great granddaughter to Haraldr Ignus Potter in the early 1300's, meaning that Harry Potter is technically a direct descendant of the Flamels. Mr Flamel was unavailable for comment, but his wife, Perenelle Flamel nee Hufflepuff, was quoted as saying, "My husband isn't available at the moment, since he is trying to help bring the monsters who treated our great-great-goodness knows how many greats-grandson to justice for what they've done. We would be delighted to welcome the child into our home, it's been so long since there's been a child's laughter in these halls, but we hope that wherever he goes, he'll be happy there."

Both families are clearly capable of coping with the financial side of raising a child, and both have blood ties to Mr Potter. Let us hope that no matter who is awarded custody of our hero, they will treat him with the kindness and respect that he so rightfully deserves.

Until then, I remain, dear readers, your stylish and witty crusader for the truth,

Rita Skeeter

For more information on the history of Harry Potter, see page 13.

For details on the Malfoy and Flamel families, see page 15.

For further details on the charges faced by Albus Dumbledore, see page 22-27.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FREEDOM~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: More and more parts of the plot are starting to come together, and the webs are getting tangled. Rita's first article has appeared, and I think it seems quite demure for her. But really, she doesn't really need to exaggerate this time, does she? Hints as to what is going on with Harry and his scar, and the Department of Mysteries are getting involved. And yes, I'm making the Weasleys good guys. I just think that Molly and Arthur are very 'family-first' in the books, so that's how I made them here. Also, yes, Deathly Hallows reference - Snape attacks George - but that's it. No Hallows. The cloak is just a cloak. A really good one, and if anyone can guess how it keeps from fading, cookies to you. No Dumbledore this time, but there wasn't a good point to bring him in. Within the next couple of chapters, I promise. Also, I was originally going to have Harry live with Amelia and Susan, but I decided against it. It just didn't seem to fit with the story. And Alastor Moody gets kicked out. Welll, not really, but essentially, that's what happened. Maybe he'll wake up and realize that Albus doesn't care about his pawns, just what he can get from them? Or maybe he's just too loyal. That's all for now, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please remember to review!


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